Kept From Destiny
by Beckyhelene
Summary: AU. What if James had found Alice after she was turned? Rated M just to be on the safe side for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

There was darkness when I was born. I say 'born' even though I was full grown—or as full grown as nature would allow someone of my stature—and with decent enough mental faculties. Of course, more than can be allotted to a squealing mewling infant. But I might as well have been born. Nothing else existed before waking up in that field, dressed in the shapeless frock that reached my knees. In the darkness I could see a soft flicker. I knew enough to know that there was a fire blazing not too far from where I lay.

"You're awake," a pleased sounding voice spoke. I blinked in the darkness and turned towards the flames. I saw a figure standing between myself and the flames. Though it was clearly night, I could see every one of his features. He was tall, with an unremarkable face and short brown hair. He was dressed in slacks that had a few tears and rips along the legs and a button down shirt that was covered in dirt that had a sleeve that had been ripped off.

"You look terrible," I blurted out without thinking. He laughed and slowly approached me. Once he was by my prone form he stretched out a pale hand to me. I carefully took his hand and allowed him to pull me up. My early assertion that he was tall didn't give him due credit. Once I was standing upright in front of him, I barely reached his ribcage. I looked past him to the blazing fire. Something about it made me feel like I should feel sad, but I didn't know why. "What happened?" I asked. I heard the man give a soft surprised sound.

"You don't remember?" He asked. I tore my eyes from the fire to look up at him.

"Remember what?" I asked. I couldn't remember anything, let alone whatever reason there was a fire burning in the middle of a field, or who this man was. This news seemed to amuse the man.

"What do you remember?" He asked. Something about his odd grin unnerved me. I didn't know much, but I knew there was something dark about him, something to be feared.

"Nothing," I admitted. I didn't possess enough guile in that moment to try and feign any sort of knowledge.

"Not even who you are?" He asked. I thought back as I tried to answer that question. As I delved into my own mind, I saw nothing. No past memories, no knowledge of my own self. Absolutely nothing. That thought made me want to cry, but I couldn't.

"No," I confessed. "Do you know who I am?" I asked. His grin seemed to widen. He placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Come with me," he said, his tone making it clear I didn't have much of a choice. "I'll tell you everything I know after we eat." Before I had been so preoccupied with all these sensations and the emptiness of my mind, I hadn't even felt hunger, yet after he had suggested the possibility of food, my throat began to burn in thirst and my body nearly twitched in anticipation. Before I could reply, the hand on my shoulder tightened and he turned me away from the fire and began to guide me away.

"Wait," I finally spoke, looking up at him. "I…who are you?" I meekly asked. I knew nothing, and that thought alone was frightening enough, I at least needed to know the identity of my companion.

"James," he succinctly replied before forcing me to move along with him as we walked out of the field.

_James_, I repeated in my head. James, my guide, my only ally. Rationally, I felt I should trust him, him being the only person who could possibly allow me to make sense of things. And yet, somewhere, deep inside my questioning mind, though I didn't know how or why, I knew he was my jailer. My captor, keeping me from a destiny I had yet to know of.

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AN: Hey all, hope you all enjoy the first chapter of my new fic. For those of you who are possibly waiting an update of College Daze, I can definitely tell you one is coming relatively soon. I can't be sure how soon that is, haha, but definitely within the next week or so. This is just a little idea I had been toying around with for quite a few months now and wanted to finally get down to writing and exploring.

So, I will say this, sometime by the end of this week one story shall be updated…whether its this or College Daze is the question, haha. Though, chances are it'll be CD.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks so much for the feedback to the first chapter. I'm glad you all enjoyed it. Here's the next chapter……a little warning, remember how in the summary I said its rated M for future chapters? Yeah, this one does a little bit of earning of that. Just figured I'd let you all know.

Oh, and I'm sorry if I'm fudging up some of Alice and James's backstory a bit, I couldn't find my copy of Twilight to refresh on some things so just took some liberties with some things I was fuzzy about.

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James and I walked out of the field and into a town. I vaguely remembered him muttering to me the name of where we were, but it didn't register. For one, I was too preoccupied with my own thoughts to do pay much attention to him, and for the other it wouldn't have meant much to me either way. It was late, the streets were practically empty. This seemed to displease James as I could hear him growling lowly in frustration beside me.

It was when James led me past a darkened eatery that I saw it. A moving image in my mind, blocking my senses for a moment. I felt my body stop beside James. His hand on my shoulder tightened as he tried to push me along but I didn't budge. I saw it, behind a building, a few miles away from us lay a man—a vagrant, a tramp---dressed in wool rags, face covered in soot. He was asleep, breath passing through his nearly completely toothless mouth.

"There's a man," I spoke, once the vision cleared. I had to blink a few times as the image before my eyes returned to where James and I were standing. James turned to look at me. His angered expression, which must've come on when I'd refused to move, turned curious.

"What?" He asked. I looked at him.

"Over there," I said, pointing to where I sensed the vision was coming from. "A man, sleeping, he's all alone," I said. There was a war of instincts in my mind. On one hand, I wanted to pity this poor lonely soul. Yet, on the other hand, something about what I had just seen made the burn in my throat increase. I felt jittery, like I wanted to take off running towards the building. What I would do once I got to it, once I got to the man, I did not know, and that scared me.

"How interesting," James mused, giving me an odd look. He looked as if I'd done some parlor trick that he'd never seen another master before, or as if I were some dog or other pet that had amazed him by balancing a ball on my nose while standing on one paw. "Well, we should keep him company, shouldn't we?" He grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming in the dark. Another moving image popped in my brain. It was of the two of us surrounding the sleeping man. James snatched his body off the ground, waking up the unsuspecting vagabond. Before the man could utter a shout of surprise, James gripped his throat with one hand and did a sharp twist. I could hear the sound of his neck snapping. The man's body went limp in James' hold while James gave me an expectant grin.

James pulling me across the street shocked me out of my vision. I felt my body stiffen in tight knots and all I could do was follow his lead. The fire in my throat increased and, if my heart were beating, I knew it would be slamming against my ribcage. After some walking, or dragging as far as I was concerned, we neared the building from my vision. My knees locked in anticipation, to which James simply dragged me along harder, forcing me to walk in step with him.

As I had seen, the man lay sleeping against the back wall of the building. A dingy wool cap pulled down on his head as his body curled inward, trying to stay warm in sleep. Everything moved as I had seen. We encroached on the sleeping man, James stood behind his form and I stood in front. James wrapped his arms around the man's waist and yanked him to his feet, pressing the man's back to his chest. The man, now awake, opened his mouth to shout. James simply gripped his neck with one hand, the other holding the man up, and sharply drew back. The man's struggles ceased as he lay against James.

"You must me so hungry," James spoke. "I'll let you have the first taste, but don't be greedy," he grinned. He tossed the man at me. I expected to fall underneath the deadweight. This man looked to have been about James height, and his girth was that of perhaps two James's. I was shocked to see that I caught him with ease and did not buckle under his weight. He was draped across my front as I held him up under his arms. His head fell against the crook of my shoulder, displaying his neck to me. I stared at the span of skin for a moment, which only seemed to amuse and fascinate James more. "You're not like other newborns," he murmured. I looked up at James, confused. "I'd have expected you to be savagely tearing into him by now," he chuckled. I looked back down on the neck resting against my collarbone. "Go on, eat," James encouraged. "I hate to see a little one go hungry," he said. I took a deep unneeded breath, inhaling the poor man's scent. James was right, I was hungry. For some reason, the smell of urine, sweat, and soot and other olfactory items on this man only made me hungrier. I didn't know anything about who I was before this night, but I knew enough to figure that under different circumstances, this smell would disgust me. But all these smells, these smells connected to the man, the smell of the man in general, nearly made me want to salivate.

Slowly, almost afraid that I would do something wrong, I lowered my mouth to his neck. My eyes drifted up to James, needing assurance that this was what I was expected to do. He watched me, transfixed, a grin plastered on his face. My teeth sank into the man's neck flesh. The second I pierced his skin, a sweet taste exploded into my mouth. I was lost.

Without thought, I gripped the body tighter and began to suck, drawing as much of this delicious nectar as I could. I swallowed greedily and felt some dribble down the side of my mouth onto my chin. I heard myself moan as I drank, my entire being reacting to this taste.

"Alright, time to share," I heard James speak before the body was ripped away from me. I was shocked, thrown off balance by this sensation I had experienced and having it torn away from me. I stumbled backwards a few steps before seeing James crouched on the ground, the man splayed out beside him, with his mouth attached to the opening I had created. In an instant I was on the man's other side, my teeth sinking into his leg before I resumed my feast. It was somewhat diluted through the cloth of the man's pants, but tasted just as sweet as before. I was desperate, needing as much of this taste to quench the burn in my body. I was angry that James was taking some of this wine for himself, limiting how much I could draw in.

Once we had drained all that there could be taken from the vagabond, I fell back against the wall. I wanted more. I needed more. This sensation was strange, thrilling, frightening, and there had to be more. I heard James drag the body away, tossing it aside from us before approaching me. I was too lost to notice him crouch down before me. He cupped the side of my face, a gesture that was void of tenderness, and pushed my face up causing the back of my head to press against the wall. He stared into my eyes, grinning at what he saw for a moment before engulfing my lips with his own. I could taste the nectar on his lips as he kissed me. The indulgence was enough to make me return the gesture. I hungrily kissed him, kissed a man that perhaps in any other circumstance I wouldn't even give a second look to.

He held me against the wall and ravaged my lips as I greedily explored his mouth, wanting to steal away as much of the taste as I could. Once the taste was gone, I lost interest in him and his mouth. But his interest in me was still intact. I went to disentangle myself from him, but his firm grip on my hips told me he had no intention of releasing me. I sensed I could fight him off, perhaps run away a few yards, but I knew he'd catch me. I knew whatever he wanted, he would not be denied.

I felt one of his hands slip under the hem of the dingy frock I wore. From our previous walking, I could already tell there was nothing underneath the itchy garment. James hand touching my naked nether region was still none the less jarring. His tongue darted in my mouth as his wandering hand possessively gripped my flesh. I felt his finger sink inside me. He was not gentle, or careful with my tiny body. His finger matched the movements of his tongue inside my mouth---brutal, thrusting. I was limp, trapped between him and the wall. I did not respond or react to his actions, simply waited for him to accomplish whatever he wanted to do.

After a few more thrusts of his tongue and finger, he was done. He released me and stood up straight as if nothing had transpired, which was just fine with me. I stood up straight and smoothed down the end of my gown. Without another thought, he gripped my shoulder and led me away from the building. As we walked away, I was filled with a sense of self loathing. I did not know if it was for my feast, the wonders of which were fading even though my thirst had been satiated, or for what I had allowed James to do to me. Though, as we got further, I realized that both fell into horrors brought on by the man who was guiding me further into the darkness.

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My life after that night was much of the same. We'd eat at night and hide during the day if the sun was too bright and would give us away. When we hid, James took pleasure in my companionship, whether it be by hiking up the hem of my gown and doing whatever he pleased, or by retelling the story of how he found me, which he had told me our first night together after we left our meal.

He had taken pleasure in watching my face contort in horror and dismay the first time he told the story, and I knew enough to recreate my reactions every time he chose to recreate the story. I figured if he was pleasured in this fashion, it would stave off his need to find pleasure in my body.

I had been in an asylum. He didn't tell me for what, but he knew I---like many others in the sanatorium—had been left there. He relished in telling me that he had had some affect on me even then. He had worked as a porter in the hospital, staking out prey that would go unmissed. As long as their deaths didn't look too suspicious—not that the doctors or nurses cared too much either way—he was free to indulge. He told me I had made an impression on him. He held back nothing and told me, with the utmost honesty, that he prolonged the wait until he could finally taste me. He said the wait, the anticipation, would make it all the more enjoyable for him. At this part of the story, his red eyes would darken. As it was, he was never able to achieve the payoff of his waiting.

James told me how as he neared the day of when he planned on taking me; he played with me, indulged in the excitement of being near. If a nurse would ask him to escort me from one room to the other, he'd take his time. He'd stroke my hair that, according to him, back then was quite long. He'd touch my skin and whisper things in my ear. I could not remember these things, and James seemed to take pleasure in leaving me in the dark about them.

Something about him must've unnerved me even back then. He told me about how another much older worker at the hospital, a creature like him---like _us_---was the anthesisis of him. He knew of James fascination with me and would try to situate himself to limit my interactions with him. If it was a day for one of my treatments, this older man would "conveniently" be mopping the floor wherever I was, ready to take me if the nurse was too busy—_lazy_—to care for me herself. But one day he was not there, and James, having missed me for some days, quietly tortured me all the more. It must've broken me, James recounted with a grin on his face. He told me I lost control, crying and screaming nonsense. In my insanity I had chopped off my hair, the thing that seemed to fascinate James so. It only took one orderly to old me down, and another to pry the scissors from my hands. James chuckled and told me I had been struck when, while waving the scissors around, I had cut one of the orderlies on the hand and angered him.

After that, according to James, my true ally returned. He had apparently heard of what had transpired and was spurned into action. James theorized that the old man knew he would not lose interest in me. The old man had taken a protective liking to me and felt it was his duty to save me. And he strived to do so. In the dark of night, the old man took me from the asylum. James further theorized that the old man knew simply taking me from the asylum would accomplish little. He needed to save me from James focus.

James had had no intention to make me like him. He had wanted to drink me, kill me, and leave it at that. He had no qualms in telling me this. The old man had not wanted me dead, but needed to remove James interest from me. So he took it upon himself to change me. Save me by ending my life. James continued to recount that he had tracked the old man and me. He wanted to destroy the man for taking me from him. For three days the man transported my changing body, muffling my agonized screams with cloth over my mouth.

On the third night, James had tracked us down. The old man wanted to bring an end to this, wanted to take down James once and for all to spare me. But alas, the poor old man was no match for James vicious and spry movements. James practically writhed in pleasure as he told me in detail how he ripped the kind old man. James had been ready to destroy him, ready to end his---and perhaps even mine, I've figured—once they met. He set the parts of the dear old man ablaze. His anger was not calmed with the man's end. His quest for vengeance still remained. It was then, as the old man burned and as I neared the end of my change that he planned on changing his intentions towards me. Proving the futility of the man's efforts. My lack of memory and complacency due to it simply made his goal all the more easier to achieve.

I wanted to weep for the old man. The old man who I could not remember and to whom I perhaps not meant anything to and yet still strived to protect me, to save me. I wanted to cry for his efforts having been in vain, his attempts having been for nothing. But I couldn't cry. I wondered what my new life would've been like if James had not found us. Would the old man's tenderness have continued? Would he have guided me with the gentle hand of a father and not the fierce and cruel touch of James….my…I could not even say what he was. Not a lover, not a friend. A captor that I simply followed. Too unsteady on my own, and knowing the ineffectiveness, to even attempt to leave him. Whenever I contemplated escape, I could see the results. And all scenarios ended the same—James would track me down and again do whatever he wanted to me. It my visions, his actions would be different than others. Whenever he would touch me now, it'd be for his own pleasure. I knew if I tried to leave, he'd attack me with ferocity, slamming against me in rage until his fury was calmed. I knew his fury would take longer to satisfy than his lust. And so I stayed where I was.

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As time wore on, James valued my precognitive ability. He would use it like a game, depending solely on what I'd see. Any decision that had to be made—even the slightest one—he'd turn to me. I'd decide which alleyways or streets led us to the best meals, which wooded areas were free of prying eyes if the day bore too much sunlight (or if he chose to take me) or what wooded areas comprised of unsuspecting civilians if he chose for us to eat. A small group of hunters 'mauled by bears' here, a ranger there.

He pretended to care for me, giving me "gifts". A little girl in Georgia. It was the first time we had ever entered an abode to take what we---no, what _he_---wanted. It had been raining and cloudy that day, allowing us to roam the streets. I was grateful for these days. When we were alone, kept in hiding from the sun, James filled his time holding me down and taking pleasure from my unmoving and unresponsive body as his hips slammed against mine.

I had taken to wearing a long dress James had taken from a streetwalker we had found weeks before. The woman had been quite taller than me, causing the hem of her tattered dress to grow even more tattered as it dragged along when I walked. I was just glad to be rid of the dingy garment I had been "born" in, even if this dress wasn't much of an improvement.

We saw the family, wealthy by the look of them, eating in a restaurant. A mother, father, and a little girl. At the sight of them, I had wondered if I had ever been that little girl. Had I ever had a mother and father doting on me as these two seemed to dote on this child? From James story, I knew I had been left in the asylum, but perhaps my mother and father had reasons for leaving me. Perhaps I truly did deserve to be locked away and it would've pained them too much to see their daughter engrossed in madness within the confines of the asylum. Or perhaps they had died, or befallen some other tragedy, and could not see me or care for me. I could not believe that I had been simply abandoned by an unloving family.

The little girl in the restaurant looked no older than eight or nine. Her hair was bright yellow, lustrous corkscrew curls hanging from her head down to her shoulders. She was beautiful, dressed in a pristine powder blue dress with a matching bow at the top of her head. She carried a beautiful porcelain doll clutched to her side with one hand while she ate with the other.

James caught me staring at the girl a bit longer than I should've, and then I saw it. The little girl, with her wealthy and loving parents, would be our next feast. Without him having to tell me, I knew he planned on tracking them until they returned to their home in the night. We'd enter through a window or door, depending on the look of their home, and eat. As we continued on our way, so as to be inconspicuous, I pitied the girl.

The family lived on a large estate. They owned much of the land their home was on, meaning there were no neighbors for miles. Perfect for our—_James_'s—intentions. We entered through the door, James arrogance making him not care much about making noise. We went for the rooms at the back of the lower level of the house, the family's servants. Three of them. By then, enough noise had gone on to alert the man of the house. He came at us with a shotgun. James made a game of breaking his arms, disposing of the gun and drinking from his wounds. I stared at our carnage while James took care of the man's wife. Once he was done with her, I saw in my mind his aim to come down on the little girl. Find her room and take her. My pity for the child made me quickly go up the stairs and join him. I couldn't keep the child from her fate, but I wouldn't allow James cruel face be the last thing the little girl would see.

James didn't seem to care that I was with him. We entered the room to find her shaking on her bed. She held her covers up to her chin, tears rolling down her cherub face. Her bright frightened eyes beckoned me. I swiftly walked from the doorway and sat beside her on the bed. I knew she wouldn't move away from me. That knowledge comforted me. I was not a monster. Perhaps yes, I was a monster in my own right, for the things I'd done, for the things I'd allow James to put me through, but there was still enough of me that remained uncorrupted. Enough to make this girl not shy away from me, and that was enough for me.

I lightly touched the girl's cheek, feeling the wet tracks. The little girl wanted to curl against me, view me as her protector. I could see her choose this and then choose not to do so. I stroked her face, giving her as much tenderness as I could before the inevitable happened.

"Mary," James spoke. He had called me that. The name meant nothing to me. He said he had heard doctors and nurses say—Patient Mary Alice Brandon—in the asylum. He liked to play with my name. 'Mary quite contrary' was his 'endearment' to me. It was empty to me. "Don't play with your little lamb before you eat it," he chuckled. I expected to see the little girl jumping to her feet and moving away from me at this, at hearing that I was not her savior. But she didn't—too scared, too trusting, too stupid, to move. I pitied her even more. Inconspicuously, I looked to see what would happen if I refused to take the little girl. Nothing good, I could see. James would simply push me away and take her with force and brutality. I couldn't do much for this child, but I could at least save her from that.

I tenderly twirled one of her curls around my little finger and kissed her cheek. Give her some tenderness before I hurt her. Perhaps that was even crueler than James intentions, but I had to take comfort in the fact that my intentions were unlike his. Any tenderness from James would be false, something to prolong his game. I wanted to genuinely ease and comfort the little girl. She smelled so fresh and clean, an improvement from many others I had taken before. It was a mark of her innocence.

"I am sorry," I whispered in her ear. I kissed the shell of her ear, a tear rolling off her cheek and hitting my chest. "You'll be with your mother and father," I gently told her, hoping that at least would absolve me of my terrible act on this little one. I placed my hand on the back of her head and gently drew her closer to me. She lay against me, expecting me to hug her, hold her as she cried. I gave her that kindness. My arms came around her frame and hugged her close, placing another kiss on the side of her head before finding her neck. I placed one last gentle peck on her skin before ending this kindness. I slowly bit down as the room was filled with her little shrieks. I wished I could stop, her pained screams—pain she was far too little to have to endure—making me want to cease my actions. But I couldn't. Not only because of James, but because of myself. The taste was too much to stop. I no longer felt like less of a monster.

Once her screams died down, she gurgled a bit before finally dying. I laid her back down on the bed and tucked her in. She was small, innocent, still. I placed a kiss on her forehead and smoothed her blonde hair. As I went to stand up, I saw James actions before he did them. He planned on raiding the girl's wardrobe, _for me_. There was a cloth satchel in the servants' quarters. It was used to shop for produce in town. I saw James obtaining the bag and returning to fill it with items from the little girl's room, _for me. _

I didn't stop him when he actually left the room and returned with the bag. I didn't stop him as he went through the child's things and grabbed up what _he _wanted _me _to have. I didn't care. Everything that had gone on since James took me under his wing was for his own liking. That thought comforts me. Yes, I couldn't help but indulge in the taste of what was done, but it wasn't my choice to hurt these innocents. If it were my choice, I'd like to think I would only go for those who do misdeeds in the world, or not hurt people at all—even the bad ones. Be like these people who eat the meat of animals, feet off bears, rabbits, whatever I could find. If only I had a choice.

I'd been with James long enough to know what he wanted was law as far as I was concerned. It didn't matter if the idea of wearing this girl's garments disgusted me, made me feel like the monster that I was. It didn't matter how much I hated him, hated this life. If James wanted me dressed up in this little girl's frilly little dresses, if those were the skirts he wanted to pull up over my hips, then that was what was done. I was his toy, his plaything, just like the little porcelain doll the girl had clutched earlier that day.

Once James had packed all that would fit in the bag, he came at me. I knew he didn't plan on inflicting his perversions in this place and for that I was glad. He ripped the big tattered dress off of me, exposing my small lithe body to the darkened room. He handed me one of the little girl's dresses, a white lace thing that reached just below my knees. As we left, I took the porcelain doll. That had been my choice, _my want._ If I was James's toy, why couldn't I have one of my own? James didn't notice, or care, about this and simply slung the packed satchel over his shoulder and took my hand. We left the house, monsters in the dark of night.

We stayed around the town long enough to hear that our actions had been credited to heartless bandits. If only they knew how heartless we were. How monstrous we were.


	3. Chapter 3

James found my care for the doll amusing. I had taken to mimicking behavior I'd seen women dote on children; holding it close like the most precious of parcels, speaking soft endearments to it. I gave the doll the love I hungered for, the love I could never hope to have. Perhaps it was a part of whatever madness I had possessed to warrant my incarceration in the asylum, perhaps it was fantasy fulfillment and a way to see that I was not like James. I was not evil. I could show love to something, even if it was just a toy. Bitterly, I figured that was more that could be said for James. I was his toy, and his 'affections' towards me were far from loving.

We had existed as just the two of us for quite some time, living on James schedule. I had taken to rebelling in what ways I could. They were small, but they were all I had. I had taken to picking and choosing which visions to share with him. I never again wanted us to feed on a child, the memory of the one whose clothes and doll I now possessed still haunted me. If I saw us coming across children, I'd lie. I'd say it was a dead end. I even looked into the futures of our potential victims. I once saw a woman who, if she took the short way home from the shop she worked at, she would get there all the faster to learn her lover had asked her father for her hand in marriage. I made sure to distract James with news of an old drunk stumbling from a tavern so as to not rob her of her future happiness.

James was so used to taking my word; never did it occur to him to use his own senses to see for himself that I was wrong. He was convinced of my compliancy. I spent my existence just going with what he did, with no other choice in my view. To him this was me being his, my acceptance of my lot in life. Never did it occur to him I simply did what I did because no other options seemed possible. I gave in whenever he touched and thrusted into me. I didn't fight, didn't respond, simply lay there and let him do what he wanted. He thought this behavior extended beyond the trysts. He didn't know of my little dissentions, and that knowledge thrilled me. It gave me something to smile to myself in private. My trickery over him was my joy.

It was the winter of 1935 when our dyad expanded. We were feasting on a group of hunters when I saw it. Another one like us, the first I had seen since the beginning. His air was aristocratic, unlike the rugged nature of James. He was just a mile away from us. He had smelled the blood we had spilled and was following the scent, hoping to join in. Once he made his presence known, James took a predatory position, guarding our kill from this stranger. The two shared words, he introduced himself as Laurent. As they spoke I saw every tactic he would use to gain James favor. Laurent was skillful and convincing with his words. By the time James agreed to let him take part in the meal, he had actually made it seem like it was James own idea to allow him to do so in the first place. It was bare manipulation. I could tell that Laurent, like James, would have what he wanted. But unlike James he did so through much more calculating and intellectual means.

James relied on my judgment of our new friend on deciding on whether to allow him to join our "family". I was truthful, for the first time in quite a while. Laurent, though full of guile and cunning, was no leader. That was James's concern, whether or not Laurent would dispute James's position. Laurent was more of a follower than a leader. I welcomed the addition to our group. Though it meant I now had two jailers keeping me instead of one, an addition gave me hope that his presence would distract James from me.

Laurent found me to be fascinating. Fascinating. Like one finds a painting or other piece of artwork fascinating in a passing fashion. You are interested in it, but don't actually care for it. Laurent presence did little if anything to distract James from me. Laurent didn't even bat an eye if James took me right in front of him. He casually looked away until James was finished. Laurent found my ability to be intriguing. He told me had encountered others of our kind who also possessed ability in his travels but none was quite as interesting as mine.

I grew to distrust Laurent. Though he never showed interest in my body, not even when James practically offered me to him (how kind of him to want to share his toy), I could feel him eye me with amused curiosity. I grew careful of my deceptions of James. Laurent had not blindly trust my talent as he did. The first time I steered us away a family of four, Laurent watched me with a quirked eyebrow. I saw that he knew of my lie, but had no intention of informing James. He had chosen to let it stay on me knowing he knew. I waited for the day I'd see in my mind Laurent choosing to tell James. I was grateful for each day that passed that this vision did not come. As it was, I reluctantly pulled back on my lies to lessen how much Laurent could blame and accuse me of if he chose to.

It had been many decades of this life. I had given up hoping for better, wanting an escape. I took my pleasures where I could and left it at that. Therefore, I found it the highest level of cruelty—crueler than anything James could do or even imagine doing—when the visions in my mind began to show me the existence of something much better.

The first thing I saw was a man and woman. They slightly reminded me of the mother and father from Georgia. The man was tall, handsome, with blonde hair. The woman had a kind face and wavy chestnut colored hair. Her smile was so warm and inviting, just seeing it in my mind made me smile. They loved each other, sneaking kisses when their 'children' weren't looking. Children. I saw them bright and clear. A large behemoth of a man with a sweet face and an impish grin. The girl was tall and beautiful with long blonde hair. I could see she loved the bear of a man. Lastly, there was another boy with bronze colored hair. He was lonely, I could tell. There were a few things that I could tell about this family. First of all, they fed on blood like us, but, secondly their eyes were a rich golden topaz color unlike the red my eyes possessed, showing they fed on animals instead of humans. Lastly, I saw that they cared for another very much.

I longed for this family. I longed for them so much it ached. I found myself becoming even more numb in life. Was this some punishment the universe had mapped out for me? Showing me in detail the sort of loving family I could not have? Showing me the siblings and parents I could see but not touch.

As I indulged in these visions, I would always sense there was some other missing piece of the puzzle. Something that needed to be part of this family, part of this vision, for it to be right. Was it me? Was it my purpose to be with them and end the loneliness of the bronze haired boy? I could sense that was not it. It was not my purpose to be with him as the beautiful girl was with the behemoth or the mother was with the father. This thought didn't do much to dissuade me that James was the closest to love I could ever hope to achieve. My anger from this, and the frustration over the lucidity of this life beyond my reach, made me shatter the little porcelain doll I had treasured.

As time went on their images grew crisper and their names became clear. Fitting titles for each of them. Carlisle, the patriarch. Esme, a name so beautiful and fitting for the bearer of the smile. Rosalie, ideal for the blonde beauty. Emmett, a strong name for the strong man. And lastly, Edward. Delicate yet forceful.

I hid these visions from James and Laurent. When asked why I had broken the doll, I said I had grown bored of it. I was sure, even without my visions that James would delight in my despair of seeing what I could not have. That was the one torture I could not bare.

The three of us continued with our lives as they were. As the world was preoccupied with national woes of world war, I began to see a new image. Unlike that of the family far from my reach, this image was more immediate and tangible. Something coming towards us. It was a woman. Her hair was like a mass of flames sprouting from her head. She was fierce, dangerous. Beyond that, I saw nothing.

Days later after seeing her, she entered our lives. Much like Laurent's arrival, she found us midst meal. Victoria. James was captivated by her the moment he saw her. She was different from me in any way imaginable. Where I was small and lithe, she was tall, powerful. Where I was compliant, she was uncompromising. James interest in her gave me hope. Perhaps she would be the distraction for James that I needed.

Victoria made it no secret that she hated me. I had no interest in James, or this life, but Victoria viewed me as her rival none the less. I welcomed James interest in her. He seemed to enjoy Victoria's active responses to his touch. The two of them would buck against each other wildly. James was quite pleased with the change in mate's behavior and used me less and less.

Even though Victoria had this victory, it did not change her behavior towards me. She never laid a hand on me. I could see her actively choosing, forcing herself, not to inflict some physical torment on me. She knew that, even if James were enamored with her, he would not hesitate to rip her to shreds if she damaged his little doll. She taunted and tormented me in any way she could think of. I saw her verbal attacks before she launched them, and they were all pretty unoriginal. Victoria's range simply focused on my size and the fact that the only useful thing about me was my visions. None of her insults fazed me, but the danger around her still unnerved me. I was not the only one who was wary of our newest addition. Laurent was quick to warn me of her.

"I hope you do not hope to continue your little deceptions," Laurent had said to me. James and Victoria were inside a little shack we had taken sheltered in, enjoying one another while Laurent and I stalked about the woods. Victoria was unlike James in terms of having an audience in her playtime. Where James did not care, Victoria demanded Laurent and I were elsewhere. This was fine with me. Their frolicking did nothing to interest me. Laurent was another story.

One specific time when we were not to far from James and Victoria as they went at it, Laurent watched on with captivated eyes. I wondered what was different from before. I wondered if it had to do with the differences in Victoria and myself—physically speaking—or the differences in our behaviors. Was Victoria's hissing, bucking, arching, and scratching a more interesting view than my prone response? I'd imagine that that perhaps would be so. From time to time I wondered if it were ever possible for me to respond to another's touch in such a way as Victoria. Could I ever be so enraptured that I could unleash such animalistic screams of ecstasy? I would try to push away those thoughts as quickly as they emerged. Such things would never be possible in my life.

"What do you mean?" I innocently replied.

"Do not play with me, Mary," Laurent replied. I ignored him and stepped around a three, dragging my short nails across the bark. Laurent sighed and followed me. "I've kept your little secret because even I know James would not appreciate knowing he's been made a fool of," Laurent continued.

"How kind of you," I snidely replied. I did not fear Laurent. Though he had the knowledge—and therefore the power—to rat me out to James, I too had knowledge of my own. I had the knowledge of knowing his actions, or inactions, pertaining to spilling secrets. I did not feel intimidated by Laurent, and therefore I was able to voice any dislike for him to his face if I so pleased, something I did in moments like this. Though James was convinced of my compliancy, he still didn't trust me to wander about alone. I knew he had charged Laurent with keeping an eye on me when he was otherwise occupied.

"Take it as you want," Laurent stated. "I simply do not wish to see James deal with you as he sees fit-"

"No, you prefer to look away," I replied. Laurent's hand clamped around my arm before spinning me to face him.

"It is no business of mine how James takes his pleasures," Laurent seethed, annoyed by my antagonistic behavior.

"Takes being the operative word," I calmly replied. I saw Laurent clench his jaw for a moment before letting out a sigh, his body relaxing as he released my arm.

"It is not my place to go against him," Laurent stated.

"It is not your nature," I said. To this, Laurent had no argument.

"Yes, perhaps. But regardless of that, I am still aware that it was in fact your whispers in our friend's ear that led to him allowing me to join you….perhaps kept him from obliterating me as well," Laurent said. He was right about that. Had James not made Laurent a part of us, he would've destroyed the sophisticated vampire simply to keep him from even attempting to follow us. "And for that, little one, I am grateful," he sincerely continued.

"And that's why you've kept my secret," I concluded. Laurent nodded. We were both quiet for a moment. I still did not trust him enough to change my feelings towards him, but I did see more of an example of how much he truly was unlike James. I wondered why he stayed with us. Was it because he by now was in so deep that, like me, he could not leave without fearing James wrath? "Thank you," I said. Laurent's eyebrows raised in surprise. Mine nearly did as well. In all my existence, or at least the much of it I knew of, I had never said those words in a sincere fashion. They had always been whispered, forced out of me, to James if he chose to shower some sort of 'kindness' on me and expected a response. Never before had I actually meant the words.

"Yes, well," Laurent spoke, trying to sidestep out of this awkward territory I had created by showing my gratitude. "Unfortunately, Victoria is not like me," he said. "The woman wouldn't hesitate to remove you from James favor if given the chance. She'd probably insist on being able to watch whatever punishment he chose to inflict on you. James might trust your guidance when it comes to our hunts, but Victoria does not. If she even suspects you to be untruthful, she'll plant doubt in James's mind. And he will lose the trust he's placed on you and see for himself that he is not in as much control of us as he likes to think." I stood there, listening to everything Laurent had to say. He was right. All my little deceptions, my small ways of rebelling against James, would only lead to my death, or worse, if Victoria suspected anything.

It was pure luck that she hadn't tried to turn James against me yet. If it were simply death to be afraid of, I'd welcome it. I'd probably go as far as to tell James of all that I'd done just to get it over with. But death was not the worst thing James could inflict, and I knew that. That was what I was afraid of. That was what I needed to avoid. That is what made me cling to the bit of luck I had. How could I be so stupid as to push that luck by continuing to fool James, now with Victoria part of us? Victoria was different from Laurent than I. Neither Laurent nor I actually cared for James. We were with him by force or convenience. The same could not be said for Victoria. She was with James because she _wanted_ him. Not because he forced her, not because he was convenient, but because he gave her thrills she could not find elsewhere. Perhaps because she even loved him. This love was darker, a twisted version of the love I had witness in my visions of the golden eyed family. But it was love none the less. A love she would be more than happy to use in her hate against me.

I took Laurent's advice and nodded. I decided against thanking him again, once was enough. My realization of this situation must've shown on my face. Laurent looked at me with something I had never seen before: Sympathy. It sickened me. I did not feel comforted or cared for by the look. It was just a general acceptance of knowledge on his part. He knew my predicament was bleak. He did the only response he could muster, not being completely sadistic as our 'leader'. It didn't mean he intended to be my ally, to help me beyond his bit of advice. Convenience and self preservation meant more to him than my existence. But it wasn't like I expected anything else. Not from him, not from anyone.

Per Laurent's suggestion, I loathedly ended my deceptions of James. We hunted families, decimated young people. I chose against looking into their possible near futures. It would only hurt all the more when we took it from them. Though losing this form of rebellion pained me, I was comforted with being able to keep things from James. I continued to keep my view of the vampire family. I even kept it from Laurent. Though he had proved to have some thing resembling affection or care towards me, I chose not to confide in him, even if it was just to avoid another empty sympathetic look from him.

It was in keeping these things from my companions that my visions began to show something—_someone_—new. Jasper. He was like me; red eyes, lost, unfulfilled. He was tall, beautiful, a southern gentleman who had been thrust into a world that pained him. He bore small crescent shaped scars as his battle wounds. Even with these scars, and the sad expression I'd see connected to him, he was heavenly, handsome. Such words seemed to not do him justice, but I could not think of anything more fitting. The more I saw him, the more I longed for him. I couldn't explain my reactions to this vision, how could I feel so strongly about someone I had not crossed paths with? But not understand it as I did, it did not change how I felt. I focused on him, looking into his future if I could. As time went on, I watched him go about his existence alone. He was like me, with an ability unlike other vampires. That was what pained him so, that was his cross to bear. As he drank from victims, he felt their fear, their sorrow, and their agony. He felt it slip away as he ended their lives. It was torture. I wanted to reach out for him. I wanted to ease his pains, kiss his scars, and hold him. But I couldn't. I couldn't go to him. I saw that clearly. If I chose to leave, James would hunt me down. If he found me near my wounded soldier, James would take great pleasure in hurting him to hurt me. I could not see how a battle between the two would end, but I was not prepared to risk finding out.

So, I became a far away voyeur. I watched my blonde beauty go about his days filled with unhappiness, wishing I could take it away. As the forties drew to an end and the world began a new decade, I saw him wander aimlessly in Philadelphia. Something told me this was were to find him, where to reach out for him. Oh how I wanted to. But my fear of James retaliation kept me stationed where I was.

As I continued to watch him in his solitude, my heart ached for him. I soon learned my body did as well. Something told me his caresses would affect me more than James's ever had. Where James's touch made me feel disgusting and hollow inside, the mere thought of Jasper's touch made me feel euphoric, a pleasant burning itch growing between my legs. I would imagine what it would be like if I were ever able to go to him. I'd close my eyes and let my mind fill with fantasies of his mop of blonde hair sweeping over me as he trailed kisses down my naked body. His long fingers gently, lovingly, teasing a nipple while his velvety tongue stroked the other. Our bodies slowly moved together, his hips dancing against mine as I kissed his neck and shoulder. In my fantasies, once we were done, he would hold me. After each instant of James's pleasure seeking from my unresponsive body, he got up and continued on with the day as if nothing happened. My fantasy of Jasper, my faraway unmet lover, he spent hours holding me close to his naked body, not ready to release me.

For the most part, I took these thoughts as small mental escapes, but there were times when the itch would grow too intense to ignore. It was times like this that I welcomed the banishment that came with Victoria and James's time together. After Laurent had begun to view me as a sympathetic figure, he had begun to lax in James's order. I saw that he figured that leaving me alone for a small amount of time was the only kindness he could afford me. I returned this kindness by not running away. I knew James would fault him if I ran. If Laurent thought enough of me to give what he thought he could, I could think enough of him to give him this sacrifice.

One day, Laurent had been hungry. We were too far to seek out people, and too obedient to James to try to without his knowledge or consent. Laurent made due with finding wildlife. Laurent had invited me along, I declined. There was a private pond some miles away and I wanted to make use of it. We separated, each giving the other the silent promise to reconvene before James or Victoria had reasoned to come search for us.

As I had seen in my vision, the pond was deep in a cropping of trees. The sun shone down on it, reflecting on the surface as it did on my skin. I peeled off my skirt and sweater—a recent 'gift' from James---and let them drop on the dirt covered ground. I didn't care if the clothes became marred or dirty. The garments meant nothing to me, just like the one who'd gifted them to me.

I sank into the water. The pond was deep enough to embrace most of my body. Standing upright, only my shoulders and head were uncovered. I bent my knees to let the water's embrace cover me. As it washed over me, a new fantasy came to me. In this one, I had not let my fears stop me from going to him in Philadelphia. We found ourselves in a lavish hotel room. I didn't know how we had managed it, both being without money to obtain such a luxury, but it didn't matter.

I had chosen to make use of the shower, wanting to wash off dirt and grime that had collected on my body in my travels. As I stood under the stream of water, letting it roll down my face, Jasper emerged from the steam accumulating in the room. He was bare as I was. He stepped into the shower to join me. My arms reached up to him and pulled his head down to kiss me. These empty fantasy kisses meant more to me than the actual physical kisses James had forced on my lips in these years by his side. In my fantasy, Jasper's lips moved down to my neck and then down to my breast. I sighed and clung to him as his lips suckled on my skin.

The itch between my legs grew in the water as I indulged in this fantasy. I had never explored myself. Before thoughts of Jasper had filled my mind, I had always viewed sexual things as being empty to me. But even with my lack of knowledge in these things, my body seemed to instinctually know what it wanted, what it needed. I leaned against the muddy side of the pond, my head resting on the shore, as my hands eased up my legs as I wanted Jasper's large hands to in my fantasy. I spread my legs beneath the water as in my mind; Jasper's hands lovingly eased them apart.

As I reached the apex of my thighs, my fingers brushed across a protruding part. The touch to that part sent an electric current through me. It was pleasant, and my body begged me to touch it again. So I did. My finger fondled the nub. It heightened the itch I had been feeling, making me twitch and fidget against the pond's edge. My toes curled on the muddy bottom, my lips parted and strange little squeaks passed through the opening. This only spurned my actions. With a mind of their own, the fingers of my other hand moved in between my legs and found the opening James seemed so interested in. My hips bucked against my hands as my right hand continued to rub the bundle of nerves and my left explored inside me.

It felt different than James's fingers or rigid member inside me. It was pleasurable, a pleasure I was more than happy to allow and give into. I gasped as I felt my ecstasy mount higher and higher. My inner walls clenched against my finger as I moved it in and out of me. My movements increased until my thin digit began to piston between my legs. My knees buckled and I sank underneath the water. This did nothing to stop me; I was a woman on a mission. I did not know what this mission was, or what awaited me at the end, but I needed it. I mewled and sighed underwater, gasping and moaning. My muscles began to tighten. I knew I was reaching my peak, I was relieved, exhilarated. _So close, so close, so close, almost there. Take me there, Jasper, please, keep me in this pleasure forever. _

My movements stopped as a vision interrupted my fantasy. It was Laurent. I had sunk into my indulgence for too long and he was looking for me. _No, not yet, can't stop, don't stop yet. _

I resumed my movements. Laurent hadn't found me yet, and I'd be damned if I kept myself from my destination now that I'd traveled so far. I turned, moved, shifted in the water as my body continued to have a life of its own. It reacted to my touches and lost control. Almost there. Just a few more steps and I'd be at the edge of something. Something good.

A few more strokes and rubs and I was there. My body stiffened, my head pushed against the side of the pond, my jaw clenched. I had reached the edge of the cliff and jumped. My body soared in ecstasy, floated in euphoria. This new sensation was far from empty or hollow. I screamed Jasper's name underneath the confines of the pond before my body collapsed to the floor of the pond, spent. My backside touched the muddy bottom before I gently buoyed upward until my head bobbed out from the water. I rested it against the shore as I recovered. In my fantasy, Jasper cradled my satiated body with one arm while the other shut off the shower. He carried me, like a groom his bride, out and onto a bed where he held me as we both rested. He tucked my wet hair behind my ear and kissed my forehead, whispering gentle words to my skin.

"Mary," I heard a voice in the distance call. Laurent. I forced my body to climb out of the pond. Once I did manage to crawl out of its depths, I simply lay on the ground, letting the sun bathe me. I was satisfied, fulfilled, happy. I lay on my back and stared up at the clear blue sky, a soft smile on my lips. "Mary," I heard Laurent say. He had found me. Quite a sight I must've been, laid out on my back, naked, glittering in the sun. For once, I did not feel disgusting and I wouldn't let being discovered by Laurent stop me.

"Hello Laurent," I breathed, not bothering to look at him. I heard him pick up my clothes and approach me. He let them fall beside my body.

"You're nude," he said, as if he needed to point such a thing out.

"I'm aware of that," I replied.

"Why are you nude?" He asked. I bit back a grin and simply shrugged my shoulders against the ground.

"I wanted a swim," I replied.

"I see," he said. I felt his eyes take me in appreciatively. All this time my sullen existence was what eluded his fancy, and now, now that I felt free and happy, he couldn't help stare. I saw no plans of him trying to act on this appreciation. Even with whatever interest I had sparked, he still pitied me. And for once, I didn't care. I did not pity myself.

I stayed in my reverie, letting Laurent have his eyeful, for a few more minutes before I clothed myself. Laurent stepped back and looked away, his body language showing he had no intention of being a threat to me…not that I didn't already know that. My hair had already begun to dry in the sun and would probably be free of any dampness by the time we returned to James and Victoria.

"You should eat," Laurent said. "James might accuse me of being greedy if he sees you haven't fed when I have." I didn't dispute this and simply feasted on a rabbit I spotted as we left the pond. It felt right, so much more right than all the innocent people we had taken over the years. The taste was different, but I didn't feel like I was snuffing out someone's chance at happiness like James entire existence did to me.

----

Laurent kept the state in which he found me to himself. What would be the point of telling the others? All it would do was point out the fact that Laurent had not tailed me like an armed guard or jailor as James had wanted. It would only to do remove him from James favor. I in turn kept my lifted spirits from them. Any change in my demeanor would only lead to question that need not be asked. I continued on with keeping the things I saw and felt to myself, and alleviating the fire those things sparked when I was alone.

Some time after I had taken to having thoughts of Jasper give me physical pleasure, I saw something in his future that made my heart swell with relief and happiness. In all my viewings of Jasper's life, he was alone. Lost in his despair. It pained me to see him like this. But then I saw a bright light in his existence. He had encountered the family with the golden eyes. Edward had seen his mind, seen his torment, and embraced him as a brother. I could see it was from pity for this lost soul, and needing companionship, even that in the form of platonic fraternity and teacher with student. For so long he had been the lone figure in his family with his paired off family, finding Jasper, taking time to show him another way of life, made his days a little less frustrating.

Edward and Jasper took to one another as brothers did, different than Edward's brotherly closeness with Emmett. Emmett was boisterous and loud, whereas Jasper matched Edward's penchant for quiet contemplation. Much of their time together, that wasn't spent in Edward guiding Jasper in his family's way, was spent simply sitting together and reading. They'd go off into the woods and simply embrace the silence if others activities—mainly those of Emmett and Rosalie—were too loud and disruptive.

It soothed my heart to watch the two together. Two solitary beings brought together through a coincidental crossing of paths and filled each other's loneliness. I could tell there was still something missing from both of their lives, but their friendship comforted me. As long as Jasper wasn't doomed to his dark loneliness as I was to mine, that was all I could ask for. Edward cared for Jasper, determined to keep him on the right path. He used his own mind reading ability to sense if Jasper was wavering and Jasper seemed to be doing his best to staying on this direction—feasting on mountain lions and deer with Edward.

I continued with my pleasures, fantasizing of Jasper's stoking hands and tongue and mimicking with my hands what I wished he could do to me when I was alone. With the others, I was in automatic rhythm, eating when I was expected to and keeping quiet. That was my existence. It seemed a little less unbearable with my roaming hands and with the knowledge that the man of my dreams—for lack of a better term—was not alone.

This was changed one day though. It was a vision that, if I could cry, I would. I wanted to scream, I wanted to beat my fist against the ground in anger and despair. I saw Jasper wavering on his resolve to abstain from feeding on humans, and there was no one there to stop him in time.

My body acted on its own, much like it did in my alone time. But instead of being shoved into action by pleasure, I was pushed by fear. The vision of Jasper's self loathing as his teeth sank into human flesh upset me more than anything I had ever experienced. He would give up. Sink into his despair and leave the family. I couldn't sit on the side and allow that. I wouldn't.

Victoria had enticed James and Laurent away for a hunt. She had said it was easier for the three to stalk without me. Logically speaking this was untrue, as I saw the victims with my ability, but James was blinded by his captivation with the red haired woman to argue and Laurent decided to let it play as Victoria wanted. Had I actually cared about this, I would've seen this as her true intention of trying to pry away James dependence on me, all the more easier to someday have me cast out. James planned on bringing back a meal for me, keep his footing as the 'benevolent' leader and the three had left a sunset. They were far away from me when I left our little temporary habitat in the woods. It would take all the longer for them to notice I was gone, let alone come seek me out.

I ran. I ran through the woods to track down my poor blonde angel. I was driven onward by my fear of being to late, of reaching him after my vision had transpired, which only made me speed up as much as I could. In my fear and determination, I also felt an anxious excitement. I'd reach him, I had to. Even if it was just for a moment, just for a second before I had to leave to keep James from tracking me to him, it was something. Something that was better than the nothing in which I had.

_Wait for me, Jasper. Don't fall off the path. I'm coming for you, don't turn away from me. Wait for me. I'll be there, I promise you. I'll find you; just wait for me, my love._

* * *

AN: Dum dum dummmmmmmmmmmm! Will Alice find Jasper in time? Will James come looking for her? Find out next time onnnnnnn "Kept From Destiny"!


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Well kiddies, for this installment, I've chosen to do something a little different. We're going to see things from Jasper's eyes for a bit :]

---

I was like a solitary, depressed, self loathing soldier back from hellish war. But that was what I was. Maria's world had been a hellish war that I lived in for too long. I should've known better, but it took almost a century to realize. I left that hellish war for an empty existence with Peter and Charlotte. Though I was free of destroying ones Maria no longer deemed useful, the knowledge of my past deeds coupled with my present ones did nothing to comfort me.

What I detested so much in Maria's service—knowing the fear and anguish of my victims as I ripped them apart—remained true as I fed on the blood of humans. Though I could compliment myself for no longer playing Maria's game, it did not absolve me from being the monster that I was. The fear of humans was more pronounced, sharper. Unlike the targets Maria unleashed me on, these humans had no knowledge of what sort of creature I was. At least my former brothers, and sisters, in arms were like me. The only shock they experienced was that I had turned on them.

I made the mistake of voicing my self loathing to Peter once, only once. Dear friend that he was, he did not understand my pain. He didn't feel the emotions of his victims as he fed, so how could he sympathize? He asked why I didn't just use my abilities to change their emotions. I followed his advice once, only once. It made me feel even more of a monster than I was. How could I force someone to feel sanguine and peaceful, as I took their life away? I had done that to my former comrades, why did I even think for once it would be any different than that? It was worse, actually. My comrades at least had a small chance of fighting back. These people? No. They were defenseless enough as it was, changing their emotions might've eased them into death but it did nothing to ease my self hatred.

I was no good to either of my companions like this. I could feel the hatred I had for myself begin to manifest in hatred from them towards me. Charlotte despised how I seemed to bring the mood down. She wanted to be happy and carefree with Peter, and there I was. The black cloud on her Sunday parade. The corners of her mouth would ever so slightly turn down whenever I was around. She hated me yet pitied me at the same time. That pity was all that kept her from demanding I leave and allow her and Peter their happiness in the live they chose and enjoyed.

I knew they'd never ask me to leave, and I knew I'd never be happy—if I even deserved such a thing—with them. So I left. With little word or warning, suited with both altruistic and self serving intentions, I left them to their life.

Wandering alone was difficult. I stuck to unpopulated areas to avoid temptations. But my need to feed could be too strong after some days of isolation, I'd run to the nearest town and find one as alone as myself, end their life to sustain my own.

It was pure luck and coincidence that I found the alternative. I had banished myself to backwoods when I saw them. A man and a woman eating. I knew they were like me, but unlike me, the prey they feasted on was a prone bear, not a human. They noticed my presence, watching me warily for a moment. The man, young with bronze colored hair, stared at me in a crouch in front of his companion. She had long dark hair that touched her shoulders in gentle waves. I could feel a strong sense of protection from the young man, and a feeling of motherly concern from the woman. After a moment, the young man eased out of his crouch and took the woman's hand, gallantly assisting her to her feet.

"Hello," he spoke to me, his rich honey colored eyes bright with his recent meal. "My name is Edward, this is Esme," he said. He no longer saw me as a threat; there was a level of understanding among us, although I didn't know how we obtained it.

"I'm J-"

"Jasper, I know," Edward said.

"Are you alone?" Esme asked. Her voice was soft, loving. I wondered how she could take a tone with an unknown monster like me.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. She smiled at me.

"Are you hungry?" She asked. I was. Had I not encountered them, I would've left in search of food. I noticed Edward's lips turn down in a frown.

"There are plenty of creatures here, no need to go into town," he spoke. I stared at him, confused and astounded by what he had just said. How did he know of my intentions? He gave me a crooked smirk and tapped the side of his head.

"Edward," Esme admonished. She scolded him like a mother would a child. She had caught his action and seemed to know what had transpired. She shook her head and looked at me. "Why don't you come with us?" She asked. She spoke in such a way that made me unable to refuse. I slowly nodded, unsure what else to do. She gave me another smile and held a hand out to me. I saw Edward watch me carefully as I slowly took her hand.

Esme and Edward took me deep into the woods until we saw a bear cub. Its nose nuzzled the ground before plopping down in a sitting position.

"I think we took his mother," Esme spoke to Edward. I detected a tone of regret in her voice. She pitied this small creature, like she pitied me. A poor, lost, lonely being. "I don't think he'll survive without her," she said. I watched Edward take hold of her hand and give it a soft squeeze. I could feel him trying to comfort her. As strange as it was, I wanted to ease her pain as well. I did not know this woman, she meant nothing to me, but the sadness she had for this tiny creature affected me all the same. I didn't want her to feel this way. I looked at her and used my natural—or, perhaps unnatural—talents to ease her guilt. I watched the corners of her mouth smooth out into a content half smile. Edward's eyes were back on me. He was intrigued. Did he know what I had just done?

"Yes," Edward simply replied.

"What?" Esme asked. Edward smirked and turned back to her.

"Jasper made you feel better," he said. Esme was confused, curious.

"I'm sorry," I spoke, reverting their eyes to me. I met Esme's gaze. "You were upset, I just wanted you to not feel so bad," he said. Esme looked at me for a moment before she somehow understood. She was touched, surprised, and grateful.

"Thank you, Jasper," she said. She gently touched the side of my face, like a mother to a child who had given her some sort of heartfelt gift. I had never felt such a pure and untainted emotion directed at me. If I were a dog, or some other animal, I had no doubt my tail would be wagging happily at her touch. I was pleased with myself. Such a strange feeling.

I did not want Esme to be plagued with the prolonged lonely existence of the little cub. Even with my influence, thoughts of the creature would possibly still remain. And, I was hungry. It was both altruistic and self serving. I approached the small cub. As I got nearer, its furry head tilted to the side and his brown eyes focused on me. I crouched down beside it and petted its head. The fur was soft. He was too young and defenseless to strike at me or back away. Off to the side I saw Edward take Esme's shoulders and turn her away from the cub and me. He knew my intentions before I acted on them. My hand moved from the top of the cub's head down to his neck. Though small, it had enough girth that my hand just encompassed half of his neck. I gripped it tightly. The cub, seeming to sense something was wrong, squirmed in my hold. He gave out small yawn-like noises, his paws lifting in a defensive move. I twisted and snapped the creature's neck, ceasing his moans and movements. The bear was limp as I lay him on the ground. I looked up to see Edward staring at me, he gave me a nod. He knew what I wanted to do next, of my uncertainty, and he encouraged me onward.

My lips connected to the creature's back. His fur irritated my nose as my teeth sunk into the flesh and its blood entered my mouth. It was warm, like that of the victims I had tasted before, but the taste was different, almost rancid. I wanted to pull back and leave Edward and Esme in my search of my chosen meal, but I kept my mouth attached to the bear none the less. I felt no guilt or self loathing as I drank from the cub. I actually felt proud of myself, as odd as that was. I had ended the motherless child's life to save him from dying of starvation. After I had finished with the cub, I sat back on my feels and stared down at the carcass.

"Thank you, Jasper," Esme spoke.

---

Esme and Edward brought me with them to the home they shared with Carlisle, Esme's husband, Emmett and Rosalie, their children like Edward. Rosalie and Emmett were wary of my arrival. Carlisle welcomed me. I was too caught up with all of this to even think of backing away, like that little cub. Carlisle explained their life to me. They lived off of animals, as I had seen. All of their eyes were a topaz color; I stood out with my still red eyes. And yet, even with my stark difference from them, Carlisle encouraged me to stay, join them in this life. I agreed, too tired of my lonely self despising existence.

Of them all, Edward took an interest in me. Like me, he had lived alone, even though he was surrounded by a mother, father, and siblings. The others had their counterpart, their pair; Edward had been the solitary one standing out amongst them. As the others spent time with one another, Edward took a vested interest in showing me their ways. We hunted together, he keeping me from seeking out my former sustenance.

Emmett slowly warmed to me. Where Edward's version of bonding was hunting and reading, Emmett was more active. He liked to roughhouse and wrestle. He joked it was good to have an opponent who didn't see every move he made, like Edward did. There lay another common bond with Edward and me. We both possessed an added ability than his—our—family. I could sense and manipulate the emotions of those around me, Edward could see into their thoughts.

I was trained to view Rosalie as my sister. Though she was far too protective of her family to trust me completely, circumstance led us to feel some sort of bond to the other. My new family, though shying away from feeding from humans, did not isolate themselves from them. They occasionally were in the public, with Carlisle working as a doctor in town. To the town's knowledge, he and his wife Esme, had taken in orphaned youngsters—brothers Emmett and Edward, and Rosalie Hale—and loved them as their own. I fit into the story as Rosalie's brother, Jasper Hale, who had been studying abroad and come home to his family. I did not trust myself around humans, so new into this new way of living, of eating; I didn't want to chance it. My seclusion was explained by wanting to simply spend time with my loved ones before going off to continue my studies. Before long, the family and I moved to another town, another city, another state, another house for a new start. Creative pretense was lessened. Dr. Carlisle Cullen and his wife Esme had come to town with their adopted children Emmett, Edward, and twins Rosalie and Jasper.

In my time with them before, lack of space led to Edward and I sharing quarters. It wasn't bothersome. Our evenings were spent reading, engaging in discussions over what we had read—Edward was much more scholarly than myself, his insights were therefore much more profound and interesting to hear—or simply staring off, enjoying the silence, when there was silence to be enjoyed. When we all moved, Esme and Carlisle found an old house with enough rooms to give me my own dwelling and give Edward back his own private space. Even with our own rooms, we had grown accustomed to spending hours sharing the same space. We tended to resume our habits of reading or shared silence in my room, given that Edward's was right next door to the room Emmett and Rosalie had and mine was on the other side of his. Some distance from the amorous couple did little to block out all of their noises, but it helped.

Edward, Rosalie and Emmett attended school in the town, along with human young people while Carlisle treated humans at the local hospital. Esme kept me home with her, the cover with the people who had heard that the Cullens did indeed have four children was that Rosalie's brother was too dreadfully shy and Esme preferred to home school him. I tried to make Esme's days with me as easy as I could. I didn't show my disdain over my weakness and inability to be trusted around people. I kept to myself as much as I could, but if I felt Esme being affected by this, I forced myself to sit with her as she filled her days decorating the house, making it more of a home as each day went on.

Spending my days being reminded of my weakness did little to make me feel a part of this family. With each passing day I felt more and more like the odd duck, the outsider. I felt like Esme's prisoner, forcing her to stay with me each day. I made sure to keep such thoughts away from Edward. Having him pity me and reinforce his efforts to accustom me to this life would do little to help me feel unlike the rest of them.

Though I had Edward's brotherly companionship, even I knew there had to be more. I could tell Edward felt the same. Seeing our other family members send one another amorous smiles and hold hands did not go unnoticed. Perhaps my past life, the things I had done to the newborns and to the humans I fed from, made me unworthy of ever achieving such a thing for myself. Perhaps I was destined to never have a soft touch, a kiss, a lithe hand inside my own. All these thoughts—my weakness, my longing—did little to keep me still. If only Edward could've seen that.

It was night; Carlisle had suggested an all men hunting trip. He thought doing family activities would help me. I didn't argue, point out the futility of his efforts, and simply followed my 'fathers' and 'brothers'. The four of us set off in search of meals. Carlisle had feasted on a fawn, Emmett on a grizzly bear—his creature of choice. Edward was preoccupied keeping a watchful eye on me and my thoughts while obtaining his own meal, the wolf he had targeted nearly sank its own teeth into Edward. But Edward was soon able to overpower it and pin it down before draining it.

While Edward was busy, that was when I picked up the sent of my own desired meal. Campers. No more than twenty or so miles from us, but I could smell them as well as Edward could smell the wolf in whose flanks his nose was pressed against. Human people, it had been so long. I practically salivated at the thought of their blood. My thoughts must've betrayed me.

"Jasper, don't," I heard Edward say. But it was too late. My thoughts were far away. I heard Edward groan as his mind was filled with my thoughts. I was torturing him, reminding him of what he too was abstaining from. Perhaps I should've felt guilt; perhaps I should've cleared my thoughts for his benefit, if for anything else. But I was too desperate, too hungry, too lost, to care. Before Edward could even make a move to disentangle himself from the wolf, I was off in the direction of the campers.

I ran past the trees in search of my prey. I could hear Carlisle and Emmett's shocked voices as they asked Edward what had transpired as Edward took off after me. Edward was fast, of us all he was the fastest. I could not be stopped. I would not be stopped. I weaved through my surroundings, putting as much distance between him and me as I could. The voices behind me continued as Emmett and Carlisle joined Edward in coming after me.

"Jasper, stop!"

"Don't do it, man!"

"Jasper!"

I ignored their voices, they meant nothing to me. Nothing compared to the taste I was running for. The taste I needed, the taste I longed for. The miles between me and my destination lessened as I continued to run. Just five more miles, five more miles and I would reach the helpless campers.

"No, Jasper, don't!" A voice screamed. A new voice, an unfamiliar angelic voice. Too soft, too light, for it to belong to Rosalie or Esme. The shock of this was enough to freeze me in place as a small figure came to a stop before me, blocking my path. A small woman, small enough for me to simply plow past and continue to my prey. "Jasper, please," she begged. She knew my name? How could this small sprite know my name? She watched me with red pleading eyes. Red eyes. Did she want the campers all to herself? Her eyes stayed on me. The wind blew through her short black hair, allowing the smell of the campers hit me. I stared at the little one. She was beautiful, very beautiful. Even in her dirt covered tattered skirt and her pale shirt, she was angelic. I did not want to shove past such a striking thing, but the smell was too tempting. The woman sprang forward and threw herself against me before I could even take a step. Her arms gripped my face and forced me to look into her eyes, her beautiful crimson eyes.

"Don't do it Jasper," she begged. "Go back; go back to your family. You know this isn't what you want. Don't fall off the path, please," she said. Her voice hitched, as if it were possible, she would cry. I could feel her anxiety and desperation. I was lost in her eyes as she repeated her plea, "Don't fall off the path," her eyes shining with intensity as she spoke. Though the smell not too far from us still wafted by my nose, I suddenly felt scared. I felt scared that if I shoved her aside and continued on my way, I would banish this sprite from my life, something that I knew would be worse than all the hells I had endured in my existence. After a moment the sprite bore a small smile. I wanted to crumple at her feet. I wanted to fall down before her. No way could I be worthy of her touch, her voice, her smile.

"Stay," she whispered. Her eyes traveled down to my lips. Would this little fairy deem me worthy of her kiss? Her desperation fell away but I could still feel a form of anxiety rolling off of her. Anxiety and….nervousness? What could this little beauty have to feel nervous about?

"Jasper!" I heard Edward's voice as he finally reached me. The sprite gasped and stepped away from me, her hands leaving my skin. Oh, how I could've killed Edward. The soft giggle coming from my beauty's lips stopped me. I would stay rooted where I was, if only to hear the soft chime-like sound again. Edward was at my side, staring at the little woman within seconds. He was surprised, curious. I was grateful he hadn't seemed fixated on her as I was, then I would really have had to kill him. The sprite giggled again. A few more seconds passed and Emmett and Carlisle were also there, taking in the little stranger. I could feel happiness radiate from her. She stared at each of us, her smile reaching from ear to ear. This smile pierced right through me, her lips stretched over a row of white teeth, shining in the moonlight. I couldn't stop myself as my knees buckled and I stumbled before her. Edward and Emmett were quick to catch me before I fell. Slowly, the sprite's smile disappeared. Had I done something to displease her? That thought sickened me.

"Please, don't let him go back to his old ways," she begged my companions. Edward stared at her for a moment before looking at Carlisle. He sent him a pointed look, a look to spring him into action, right when my little sprite moved to leave us.

"Wait," Carlisle spoke. She looked at him, her lips turning into a frown as she shook her head. I could feel reluctance and sadness from her. That wouldn't do, that wouldn't do at all. I focused on her sadness and manipulated. Within seconds her smile returned. She looked at me with bright whimsical eyes.

"I knew you could make me feel better," she whispered. I shook off my brothers' holds and stepped closer to her.

"Don't go, please," I said, with as much voice as I could muster. She stared at me for a while before slowly nodding. She reached out and took hold of one of my hands. Her tiny hand sank into my grasp. It fit perfectly.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting for such a long time," she said. I was confused as to what she meant, unsure how to reply.

"I'm sorry, ma'am?" I asked. She simply smiled at me. For the first time in over a century, I felt hope.

--

AN: Yeah, so it delved into cheesetastic manipulating lines from the book land there, heh. Sorry about that. I couldn't help it! Anyway, I just wanted to show Jasper's perspective at this point. Next chapter we'll be back to seeing through Alice's eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

"Jasper, stop!"

"Don't do it, man!"

"Jasper!"

I heard their voices in the distance, the voices of the men I had seen in my visions for so long. They were chasing after my love, my Jasper. I wasn't too late. That thought comforted me but I knew I still needed to stop him. Edward, fast as he may be, would not get to him in time. But I could, I would. I had to. I saw the mop of blonde hair whiz through threes just five miles away from the campers. I was close, close enough to stop him. Close enough to save him from himself.

"No, Jasper, don't!" I screamed as I finally reached him at a clearing. He stopped at the sight and sound of me. There I stood, blocking his raging path. And there he was. I had thought that seeing him in my mind's eye was enough to fully understand his beauty, but now seeing him with my own eyes all visions paled in comparison. I saw that though paused from his mission, he was not deterred. "Jasper, please," I begged. He couldn't go back into the darkness. He couldn't go back to being alone. I wouldn't stand for it. His nostrils flared as he smelled the scent of the unsuspecting humans. I saw him choosing to rush past me and continue on his way. I rushed at him and threw my body against him, grabbing hold of his face and forcing him to look at me. _Look at me, Jasper, pay attention to me, not the people, see only me._

"Don't do it Jasper," I pleaded. "Go back; go back to your family. You know this isn't what you want. Don't fall off the path, please." I needed him to go back, I needed to know he would return to the others. He needed a good life, even if I could not stay with him to see it with my own eyes. "Don't fall off the path," I urged. As our eyes bore into the others', I saw him choose me over the campers. I had accomplished my task. I was proud of myself. I couldn't smile at my goal. He wanted to stay with me just as much as I wanted to stay with him. "Stay," I whispered, though it was unnecessary. I reveled in the feel of his skin under my fingers. His soft scars were even more captivating in person. His lips, the lips I had fantasized all over my body, were so inviting. I wanted to taste them, taste him. Compare actuality to fantasy. But I was nervous, scared.

I was so enraptured in Jasper, I didn't see Edward reach us until he arrived, calling out Jasper's name. I was caught by surprise and unaware. I couldn't see them all; see all of my dream family. I gasped and released my hold on Jasper, moving away from him. I saw Jasper being none to pleased by the interruption, so much so that he had chosen to maim his brother. I couldn't help giggle at such a thing. Of course, such an action would be brutal and terrible, but the fact that he wanted to do such a thing for me made me feel giddy, I couldn't stop myself from giggling. Of course Jasper could manage to make me giggle. There were many times I'd be lost in a haze of big smiles and giggles after touching myself at the thought of him.

Soon Emmett and Carlisle had joined us. All four men stood before me, crisp and clearer than any vision I had ever had. I couldn't help smile at this. Jasper's stumbling broke me from my reverie. I had to go. I had to leave, as much as it pained me.

"Please, don't let them go back to his old ways," I pleaded, my eyes trained on Edward, Emmett and Carlisle. They had to be his salvation where I could not. I watched Edward send a look to Carlisle. He was going to get me to stay. I had been enough about my wits to remember Edward's ability. I trained my thoughts on this moment, on them and kept myself from thinking of what I had to force myself to get back to. I kept Edward from seeing all that I was.

"Wait," Carlisle spoke as I turned to leave. He was going to ask me to go back with them, to ask me questions. Who I was, how I knew where to find Jasper, what my intentions of stopping him were. With a heavy heart, I shook my head. I could not stay. I could not give them the answers that they wanted. Just as soon as I felt this sadness of leaving them, it was gone. I was back in the happiness I had felt before. It was Jasper. He was affecting me, making me happy just like I knew he would.

"I knew you could make me feel better," I whispered to him. Jasper stepped away from Emmett and Edward and approached me. He was going to ask me not to leave, and I knew I couldn't refuse him.

"Don't go, please," he requested his voice small. I couldn't leave him like this. He was desperate for me to stay, to go with them. How could I turn away from him? Turn away from the one thing, the one thought, that made my days bearable especially now when he wanted me to stay. I nodded. I reached out and took hold of his hand. It felt so good. His fingers closed around my hand and held it tightly, ensuring that I would not leave him. I wished I had been brave enough to seek him out sooner, to touch that hand long ago.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting for such a long time," I said. I had kept myself from him in order to keep him safe, but I could see this avoidance did nothing to help either us.

"I'm sorry, ma'am?" I asked. He was confused. He was so adorable when he was confused.

The five of us walked through the woods. I kept looking in our immediate future to be sure Jasper's want for the campers had passed and there was no chance of him slipping from my grasp to run at them. I saw Edward stealthily move behind Jasper and myself. He saw my precautions and moved to stand behind Jasper to stop him if my fear were to happen.

"So, um, what's your name?" Emmett asked after we had walked a mile together in silence. I opened my mouth to speak my name, only to have it taste sour in my mouth. Mary was a name connected to horrible deeds—both that I had done, and that had been done to me—I couldn't let this pure and good family use such a name. I couldn't be known to them by such a name.

"Alice," I finally answered. "My name is Alice." I noticed Edward's step falter ever so slightly. He knew I had been untruthful. I saw him choose to keep this information to confront me later. I was unsure if I would actually be around to give him the answers he was holding out for. Nothing was said for the rest of our trip. I could see all four of them choosing to voice a question to me, and then choosing to wait until we had reached the house. Until we reached Esme and Rosalie and the family could question me together.

---

The house was stunning, wonderfully decorated. Walking into it made me feel warm, special, I was lucky to enter such a place. Rosalie and Esme were seated in the spacious main room of the house when we walked in. Both were surprised to see the four men in their lives accompanied by a stranger.

"Oh, Carlisle, I didn't know we'd be having company," Esme spoke. Her tone was admonishing, like I had caught her unprepared for a visitor. Though, the house was in immaculate condition as it was.

"Who's this?" Rosalie questioned, her eyes trained on Emmett, expecting her lover to give her some answers. I didn't' care of her narrowed questioning eyes. All I could think of was Esme standing there. Even with me being a stranger, she stared at me with those warm eyes I had seen in my visions. If it were possible, my eyes would've watered from all of this. Here I was, clutching the hand of the beautiful man from my visions, looking at the family that had beckoned me, the mother who could give me the love I so sorely needed. My hand slipped away from Jasper's as I quickly moved forward. Rosalie's eyes widened and she moved to stand in front of Esme, ready to rip me apart if I came closer.

"Rosalie, it's fine," Edward said. He saw my intentions were not to harm Esme. Rosalie moved away, freeing my path. I rushed at Esme, my arms wrapping around her waist as my head pressed against her stomach.

"Oh, my," Esme spoke, surprised. She didn't pull away from my hug; instead, she returned my embrace, her arms embracing my shoulders. It felt so good, so right. I shut my eyes, sinking into the feeling of being hugged. Such a wonderful new feeling.

"What is she doing?" Emmett questioned, astonished.

"Hush, Emmett," Esme replied. I felt one of her hands travel to my head and gently stroke my hair. My knees trembled, ready to give out any second. I couldn't leave this embrace, I couldn't. But I had to, I had to leave this home, leave these people who had filled my thoughts for so long.

"Why don't you rest before you leave?" I heard Edward ask. I slowly pulled away from Esme's embrace and looked at him.

"No," I said, shaking my head. The longer I stayed, the more chance I risked of….I stopped myself from finishing that thought. Edward would see what I feared.

"Please, don't go yet," Jasper implored. Damn him. I could not refuse. I saw Edward smirk and raise his eyebrows. I saw he planned on enlisting Jasper's help in dealing with me. Cunning bastard.

"Alright," I nodded.

"Oh, wonderful," Esme spoke. She took my hand and led me to the large couch in the room before sitting me down in the center. Jasper quickly moved to take a space beside me, not that anyone else was running to keep it from him. Esme smiled and sat on the other side of me. And there I was, sandwiched between he who I saw as my possible lover, and she who I saw as my possible mother. I didn't have a chance.

Emmett and Rosalie took up the seating chair across from us. Emmett sat while she leaned against the armrest, held close by the impish behemoth. Edward and Carlisle stood by the unused fireplace in the room. They were all taking positions to question me.

"Well, Alice, we were quite lucky that you found Jasper when you did," Carlisle spoke.

"Luck had nothing to do with it," Edward pointed out. I pursed my lips and nodded. No chance of lying with Edward around. I chose to fill them with as much of the truth as I saw fit, enough to keep them—Edward especially—satisfied.

"He's right," I said. "I…I saw Jasper going for the campers…I mean, I had a vision," I told them. Jasper looked at me, surprised.

"Oh great, another one with special powers," Emmett groaned. "Seems like the rest of us are going to be obsolete soon."

"Oh Emmett, don't be silly," Esme said, shaking her head. She turned back to me. "What else did you see, dear?" I melted at the endearment. Such a thing was so foreign and so yearned for.

"All of you," I said, mesmerized by her warm eyes. I blinked and turned to address them as a whole. "You all looked so…happy. I didn't want anything to upset that." Carlisle smiled at me.

"Well, we are grateful for that. Thank you for your concern," he sincerely spoke.

"Where did you come from?" Rosalie questioned.

"No specific place," I replied. This was true. I had led a nomadic existence. All the more reason that my visions of this family enticed me so. Having a home, a family, it was a wonderful thought. "I was hunting when I had my vision, I had to come and stop it."

"Hunting, for humans?" Carlisle asked. It was an innocent question, free of judgment, but all the same I felt myself shrink. How must I have seemed to them all? Stopping Jasper from feeding off those campers, when I looked like I possibly would've liked to feed on them myself. I was a hypocrite of the lowest—or was it highest?—form.

"No one here sees you as a hypocrite," Edward said.

"Speak for yourself," Rosalie muttered.

"Be nice, Rosalie," Carlisle spoke. His tone was light, not oppressing, but held enough of a lecturing sound to be effective. Rosalie sighed and rolled her eyes. Though it bothered me to have a member of this perfect family dislike me, I held onto it. Having them all welcome me warmly would make it all the more harder to leave.

"Are we keeping you from something?" Edward asked. I looked at him.

"Yes," I replied. I squeezed out from between Esme and Jasper and stood up. "I should get going. I just wanted to make sure that," I paused, pressing my lips together. A vision hit me. Esme, wanting me to stay a little longer, and wanting to thank me, was going to make an offer. An offer so kind, I wasn't sure I'd be able to refuse.

"At least let us thank you," Esme began. She stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder. In my mind I saw her guiding me up to her room, insisting I take one of her lovely garments to replace the tattered clothes I wore. Though I had encountered many nice clothes in my life with James, these clothes that Esme intended to offer me were free of the tainted essence, free of the knowledge the bearer of such pretty things had been killed right before me, or worse, by me.

"You don't need to thank me," I replied. Esme shook her head.

"Nonsense," she sighed and looked at me. "Come with me," she said, taking my hand and whisking me away. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jasper getting up to follow, only to be stopped by Edward. Esme led me up the large staircase of her home until we reached the master bedroom. "In case you'd like to replace," she began, opening large double doors at the far wall of the room. Inside the room hung long beautiful dresses and skirts, as well as silk and chiffon blouses with intricate embroidered designs. Esme stood by the closet and stopped, frowning. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," she said. She had taken my silence has being upset, but I was too busy being captivated by all her lovely things to speak.

"No, it's alright," I smiled at her. I shook my head. "I couldn't," I said. This was too much, too kind of her. Esme sighed and approached me. She placed a gentle hand on my cheek.

"You stopped Jasper from leaving us," she said, "and you've brought a smile to his face. For that, you deserve this. I only wish there was more I could do to repay you." I closed my eyes, sinking into her kind touch and words. "Besides," she continued a playful tone to her voice. "I'm hoping maybe this will entice you to stay." I opened my eyes and saw her giving me a small grin. I couldn't help laugh. Laughter. It felt good.

"Well, I don't know about that," I said, regrettably. Esme nodded.

"I understand," she said. "Our way isn't for everyone." I didn't correct her assumption and simply nodded. If having this wonderful family think I was unable to embrace a different way of life would make it easier for them to let me walk away, I could live with that. I had to. She gave me one last smile before stepping away and sweeping an arm towards the open double doors. "Well, fell free to choose anything you like," she said. "I'll be back to pin anything you want," she said, citing our noticeable differences in stature and frame. I could only imagine how long her clothes would be on me.

"Thank you," I said. No further refusals from me would be heard, I knew that. She would insist until I finally gave in. I chose to save us both the trouble. Esme smiled and almost glided out of the room. I bit my lip and turned back to the closet. I approached the doors and walked into the large closet. It could've been classified as a small room for the wide expanse beyond the doors.

I ran my fingers over the soft fabrics of the clothes. They were cool to my cold touch, crisp, perfectly ironed. As I contemplated my options, I peeked ahead to see how they would look on me. In my mind's eye, I saw many of Esme's blouses hanging off me awkwardly, too large on me to be fixed by quick pinning and altering. It had to be quick. I could not stay long. Rationally, I felt I should just pick something to appease Esme, no matter how it looked, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted to find the perfect garment, indulge in this sensation.

My eyes came across a blue satin dress. It had a high collar that, when seeing myself in it, hung close to my neck. The sleeves were capped and I could see a tie in the back. I gently removed the dress from where it hung and held it up against myself. It was funny how just a little blue dress would make me feel so excited.

"Carlisle picked that up for Esme in Paris," I heard a voice say. I poked my head outside the closet doors to see Edward standing in the doorway to the room. I blinked and looked down at the dress. I didn't want to take a gift from Esme. "She has others," Edward said, stopping me from putting the dress back. "It does look nice on you," he added, "Esme will insist you take it." I nodded and looked down at the dress.

"You looked inside my mind and saw my vision," I stated, knowing full well how he knew how the dress will look at me. I heard Edward chuckle.

"That I did," he replied. I looked at him, unable to stop myself from giving him a smirk.

"You know, it's not very nice to look into people's thoughts without permission," I teased.

"Can you blame me?" Edward asked. He walked into the room. "You seem to know about us,"

"And you all would like to know about me," I concluded for him. I laid the dress on the king sized bed in the room. "There really isn't anything to know," I stated.

"You're guarding your thoughts," Edward pointed out. "Every time you think about something you don't want me to hear, you stop yourself." He was right. Damn him. Edward chuckled, obviously having 'heard' my curse. I turned away from him. I chose not to respond and simply went about trying on the dress. I reached for the waist of my skirt and went to pull it down. I heard Edward take a sharp intake of breath. I looked back at him and saw he had quickly turned away. I frowned. It should've occurred to me to be modest, insist that he leave the room. But it hadn't occurred to me. A sick feeling seeped through me at that knowledge. I had spent so many years without the option of modesty; it was engrained in my system. I turned back to the dress and quietly removed the rest of my clothing.

"You must think I'm incredibly unladylike," I dryly stated as I slipped the dress on. I saw Edward's shoulders shrug. I couldn't help but compare myself to the women in his life. Rosalie and Esme were beautiful, pristine, refined, and here I was. Small, with dull eyes, ready to disrobe in front of a strange man without a thought.

"I'd like to think I'm not that strange," Edward said, I could hear the smirk in his voice. I shook my head.

"You can turn around now," I said. Edward turned back to face me. I watched his eyes take me in. Though I knew his intentions were innocent, the watchful eyes did only to remind me of what I had to get back to.

"Are you alright?" Edward asked. I nodded. Edward gave an acknowledging tilt of his head. "Well, I will say your vision did not lie," he complimented. I gave him a small smile in thanks. "I'll go get Esme so she can pin it." I nodded and watched him leave. As I waited alone in the room, I couldn't stop myself from approaching Esme's vanity. The elegant piece of furniture was made of a dark polished wood, with a cushioned stool situated in front of it. Connected to the vanity was an oval shaped mirror. The vanity itself looked painstakingly organized with small bottles of perfume neatly situated in a corner. Most of the bottles had French wording on them. Even without picking up a bottle I could smell the residue of their recent use. They were all soft flowery scents. Combined, the scents were overpowering and unpleasant, but on their own I could smell the wonderful smell of lilacs, roses, and many other soft inviting smells.

On the other side of the vanity sat a large jewelry box. I gently lifted the lid to view the beautiful jewels housed inside. The light in the room reflected off a crystal necklace that sat in the middle of the box, held in place by a silver gem setting and a silver chain.

"Oh Alice, that dress looks lovely on you," I heard Esme gush as she entered the room. I turned to see her smiling in the doorway of the room with Jasper standing beside her. He had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his trousers, staring at me almost nervously. His gaze was so soft, inviting, I couldn't help it as a thrill rose up my spine at his look. He was drinking me in. His look was not overly lewd or lascivious, like looks I had received from James or Laurent. No, his look was shy, pure, with the slightest hint of desire. After all this time fantasizing about his touch, his kiss, I doubted every coming face to face with him, let alone if him wanting me. But the look, seeing he could possibly want me—even if it was an illusion, even if there was little chance he'd want me if he knew more about me—thrilled me. Jasper must've sensed this feeling, the corners of his mouth turned upwards in a smile.

"Well, let's see what adjustments need to be made," Esme said, breaking my focus on Jasper's lovely face. I looked at Esme, surprised; I had actually forgotten she was standing right there beside him. "Jasper," she said, looking up at him, "would you help Alice up on the stool?" She requested. Jasper couldn't get to my side fast enough. He pulled the stool away from the vanity and took hold of my hand to assist me up onto the white satin cushion. I paused, staring down at the pristine white material. "Is something wrong?" Esme asked, seeing my hesitation. I looked up at her.

"I..." I bit my lip. "I don't want to get your stool dirty," I said. Esme's smile seemed to only warm at that.

"It's alright dear," she assured me. I felt Jasper give my hand a small squeeze, telling me she was sincere. I nodded and hiked up the dress just enough to allow my feet to climb up on the stool without stepping on it. I felt Jasper's free hand touch the small of my back as I climbed up. I didn't need his help to remain steady; his guiding touch was not needed. Never the less, the pressure of his hand on my clothed back was welcomed. I wanted him to touch me, never stop touching me. I wanted this dress off of me, his skin touching my skin.

As Esme kneeled down before me and began pinning the dress to see what length would work best on me, I couldn't stop my thoughts from wandering. They traveled to the fantasy of the hotel, Jasper carrying me from the shower to the bed, one arm under my knees and the other across my naked back. The tingling I had already been feeling increased. Jasper's fingers tightened around my hand. From the corner of my eye I saw his brow furrow and his eyes darken ever so slightly. I felt cruel for inflicting whatever emotions I was experiencing on him. Such self flagellating thoughts were interrupted by the feel of Jasper's thumb rubbing circles on the back of my hand. Oh, he was the cruel one. The soft touch did nothing to curb the desire I could feel building inside me.

"Is this length all right?" Esme spoke, tearing me from my thoughts. If I were living, I would've blushed. Here I was, being tended to by this lovely woman while thinking salacious thoughts of her adopted son. I blinked and looked down. As I had been focusing on Jasper and his touch, she had pinned the dress to a length right under my knees, hiding away a good percentage of the dress's natural length.

"Yes," I answered. "Thank you," I said. Esme smiled up at me and nodded.

"Would you like to keep the dress on while I sew it, or change back into your clothes?" She asked. I looked ahead at each of my options, which would ensure a faster completion? I knew if I insisted on leaving the dress simply pinned, she would refuse. She would hem the dress no matter how much I resisted. I saw that allowing her to do her work with the dress splayed across her knees, as supposed to on my form, would be the most convenient to her and made my decision.

"I suppose I could change," I said. Esme nodded and rose back to her feet. She gave a pointed look to Jasper, a look that said a gentleman should leave a lady to dress in private. If she had only known how thoughtless I had been with her other son, she would see I was no lady. Much to my chagrin, Jasper's hands released me. My hand felt empty and useless now that it was no longer encased in his. With one last lingering look in my direction, Jasper left the room. Esme walked over to her bed, where I had left my tattered clothes and brought them over to me. She set them down on her vanity before taking my hand and guiding down from the stool.

"You can just lay the dress on the bed when you're done changing," she said, and with that, I was alone again. The taste of connection I had just experienced, a tangible and fulfilling taste that I never before had in my existence—or as much of it I knew—spoiled me. I longed for more of it. I had always felt alone, but now, for the first time and only after a minute after the departure of Esme and Jasper, I truly felt lonely.

This feeling made me change into my clothes quicker than I normally would have. Per Esme's instruction, I laid the dress on the bed once I was dressed. Now, in comparison to the lovely garment I had just had caressing my skin, my tattered and dingy clothes felt even less appealing. I left the room and found Jasper standing at the top of the staircase. He had been watching the doorway to the room, waiting for my unworthy appearance to pass through the threshold.

The second our eyes met, I felt the pleasant tingly sensation return. His look was so untarnished, sincere. I approached him. Each step felt long, arduous, a long trek to be within reach of him. Once we were mere inches apart, we simply gazed into one another's eyes. It was a gaze that went on forever, a delicious and inviting forever. After a while, I saw his lips part. Wonderful lips, lips I wanted, lips I needed. He wanted to speak, wanted to say something, but did not know what.

"You looked beautiful in the dress," he finally murmured. The compliment, so simple, filled me with warmth. To hear such a compliment from him, to have him looking at me like this, it made all that I had done vanish. I had not existed before the moment that I was standing there before him. I did not exist before him, and deep down I knew I could not exist without him.

"Thank you," I replied. And then, the existence I had led before this moment came back to me. I remembered why I could not linger, why I could not forget that existence. I stepped away from him. "I should let Esme know I've finished changing," I said, looking down. I could not get lost in his eyes again. Without another word, I moved past him and descended the stairs. I could feel his gaze on me, a pleading gaze. A gaze that begged me to walk back up the stairs, go back to our moment. But I couldn't. Had I stayed in that moment any longer, I would've kissed him. If I had kissed him, I would never leave. And if I never leave, I'd be the end of him and this glorious family.


	6. Chapter 6

I found Esme sitting in the main room with Carlisle and Edward. Both Carlisle and Esme greeted me with their smiles. I felt yet another pang of yearning.

"I left the dress on your bed," I stated to Esme, my voice sounded lame to my ears. Esme nodded, rising to her feet. She passed me as she went back to her room, her hand gently brushing my shoulder as she went by. I saw Carlisle rise and follow her. Their love was even more palpable in person as it had been in my visions. He intended to keep her company as she selflessly worked on the dress. He wanted to be in the presence of his love. A love like theirs awaited me, beckoned me. It was there at my feet at the top of the stairs and I, fearful of what James could do—what James _would_ do—if I stayed here, forced myself to walk away.

"You don't have to leave," I heard Edward say. I turned to look at him. He stood at the mantle, staring at me. "You've managed to win everyone over; they'd hate to see you go."

"Except for your sister," I ruefully replied. Edward smiled.

"Well, she can be difficult to win over, but I have no doubt you'll charm her eventually," he said. I didn't have eventually. Instead of giving him a reply, I sat on the large couch in the room to wait for Esme to finish hemming the dress. Behind us, I heard Jasper enter the room and take a seat on the armchair Emmett had previously occupied.

I was tempted to look into the future to see if the others had noticed I was gone yet, to estimate before my time was up, but I decided against it. If Edward had seen my previous vision concerning Esme's dress, he would most definitely see any other vision I had. I was compelled to keep my secrets from Edward and this family. Even without my gift of foresight, I had seen and grown to know enough about this family to know that they'd try to be my salvation. A part of me wanted that. I wanted them to protect me, save me, but the risk was too great. I would not be released willingly. Though this family greatly outnumbered the others, it would only take one. It would only take one of them to destroy one of this family. Even if the death was avenged in a second, this picturesque family would already be tarnished and destroyed.

"Well, I think I will go and make sure Esme isn't being distracted from finishing your dress," Edward spoke. Liar. I had seen him chose to leave Jasper and I alone. He really did intent on enlisting Jasper in dealing with me, and first on that agenda was convincing me to stay. My resistance to Jasper's pleading eyes was already wearing thin as it was, I didn't want to know how it'd fair at being left alone with him. "Emmett and Rosalie have gone off to…" Edward's voice trailed off. The silence filled in what he meant to say. The pair had gone off to "frolic" in the woods, be as loud and raucous as they wanted to without the guilt of engaging in such behavior with a guest in the house. Good for them, I thought to myself. I saw Edward give a look to Jasper. It was a worried look. Of course he was worried. Jasper had not yet eaten when all of this happened. Signs of hunger were already visible in the blonde's face. I looked ahead of us, ahead of this moment, for a time where Jasper could search for food without fear or worry.

"In the morning," I spoke up, drawing the attention of both men. "The campers, they'll be leaving at dawn and there will not be any humans anywhere near for hours. The corners of Edward's mouth turned up into a smile and he nodded.

"Thank you," he said. Oh, stupid girl. You've just given them even more reason for them to want you to stay. You can see the risks and outcomes of actions. The very thing that makes you so appealing to James. No, they would be different. They could love you, your ability would merely be a bonus to loving you but not the only reason you were kept.

I caught a flinch in Edward's expression. A look crossed his face, as if he'd finally figured something out. And then it hit me…..NO! STUPID, STUPID GIRL! You did not mind your thoughts! He knows. He knows because you weren't careful!

"Alice?" Jasper spoke. Oh yes, he could sense my agitation. I couldn't have felt more of a fool. One second of thoughtlessness and everything was coming down. I stared from Edward to Jasper. Edward had caught a glimpse of what awaited me, what I was anxious to get back to. Jasper could see something was wrong and…..and for some reason, that doesn't upset me anymore. I felt my body relax on the couch. Jasper. I would hate him if I didn't already love him. That was now twice he'd felt compelled to calm me, compelled to change my dark emotions to something more pleasant and peaceful.

I heard Edward leave us. He had granted me the courtesy of not confronting me on my secrets that very moment, but not even I could tell how long such a courtesy would last. He was even more determined to get me to stay. Even without my gift I could tell that if Jasper could not succeed in getting me to agree to stay, Edward would have the whole family physically restrain me if they had to. And they would do it.

"Are you feeling better?" Jasper asked. This was only to fill the silence in Edward's wake of course. Jasper already knew the answer to the question.

"Yes," I replied. "Thank you," I said. He moved from the arm chair to sit beside me on the couch. Without word or warning, his hand reached for mine and held it like it hand up in Esme's room. He'd obviously remembered what feelings that had stirred in me, for he resumed drawing small circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. Oh, cruel, cruel man. I can see why Edward was so intent on leaving Jasper to convince me not to leave. I was finding it more and more difficult to refuse Jasper. Why else could I not bring myself to pull my hand away?

I was hit with an onslaught of visions, fueled by Jasper's indecision. One second he chose to kiss me—his head swooped in and crashed against my lips—and the next he chose not to. And then he'd rethink that decision! My mind was flashing in and out of a wonderful sight---his lips against mine, his hands gripping my hips and pulling me on top of him—he would not make up his mind for more than a few seconds. It was maddening!

I momentarily forgot the knowledge that if his lips were to touch mine, all resistance would grumble. I momentarily forgot about my need to leave as soon as possible. All I could think about were these switching visions. If it were possible, I would've gotten dizzy from them! That was it. I had to bring them to a stop. And with that declaration, I pulled my hand away from his, gripped him by the sides of his hair and used the handfuls of blonde tresses to pull him to me before smashing my lips onto his.

The touch of our lips was better than any kiss I had ever fantasized about. Even in my fantasies that brought me to a shuddering euphoric release…they all paled to reality. For a moment he was surprised. Surprised by my action and surprised I had wanted our lips to meet just as much as he did. After that moment passed, his lips moved against mine. We attacked one another with frantic lips and tongues, sucking, keeping one another's taste in our mouths. Why did I resist this for so long? Why hadn't I attached my mouth to his the second I came across him? All former reasons and worries flew out of my mind. All I could recall was this moment---his tongue dancing against mine. Not thrusting, not forcing itself inside like….oh who can even remember!

Like my vision, Jasper's hands gripped my hips and used them to haul me off the couch and onto his lap. Such an exquisite lap and such wonderful hands holding me in place. Oh, silly boy, those hands aren't necessary. I wouldn't think of leaving this perch. With a mind of its own, much like the very first time I explored the caverns of myself, my body reacted to him. I shifted on his lap, going from sitting across his legs to straddling him, and moved my hands to his hair. I buried my fingers within the depths of the waves, holding him to me as we devoured each other's lips. His lips left mine, much to my dismay. I was quite ready to order him to put them back where they were before they found a new home on my neck. Oh, will wonders never cease.

"Jasper," I gasped, pleaded. The itch between my legs had not only returned but arrived stronger and more demanding than ever before. On their own accord, my hips shifted against his lap, rubbing against him in the hope of alleviating the itch. As he kissed and sucked on my neck, I moved on his lap. I encountered stiffness on his lap, which once I rubbed against, caused him to growl against my skin. It was not a growl I needed to fear, no. It was a growl that seemed to tell me I was affecting him the same way he was affecting me, as evidence of the place on his lap my hips seemed to know were where to focus on. His grip on my hips tightened, stopped me. He pulled his lips away from my neck to look at me. His eyes were dark from hunger—both actual, and metaphorical. Yes, he had been hungry for blood, other thoughts had tip toped out of his consciousness. No, now, the only thing either of us was hungry for was each other.

"I.." He began, but stopped, unable to articulate what he wanted to say, what he wanted me to know. I knew. I knew by his touch, I knew by his look, and I especially knew by the erection straining in his trousers against my thigh. I could only imagine how riled up he was. Here he was, experiencing his own feelings as well as my own, which were setting his ablaze. If I weren't so in need, so desperate for him to continue, I would've pitied him. But for what? Was what I was inflicting on him so terrible? He wanted me, and my wanting of him only encouraged him. I brought my lips to his in a gentle kiss, a kiss to tell him what he wanted, so did I. Now it was his turn. I pulled my lips away from his to look at him, speak with my eyes. I was happy to see my message was conveyed.

Jasper stood up from the couch, his grip firm on my hips leaving me no option but to wrap my legs around his waist. We fit well together. I was tiny where he was tall and glorious, but somehow we fit like two pieces of a beautiful puzzle. Jasper extended one arm around my waist while the other traveled down beneath my buttocks, holding me up against him. His hand resting so close to the source of the itch sent a brand new thrill through me. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin as I felt him move us. He could take me to hell and back for all I cared, as long as he was with me and was touching me it didn't matter. As my lips brushed along one of the scars on his neck, Jasper walked from the sitting room to the stairs. His knees lightly bumped into my backside as he climbed up the stairs, making me moan and sigh against his skin.

Once at the top of the stairs, he could no longer take the steadily slow pace of walking. Neither could I. Within seconds we were in a room down the hall from that belonging to Esme and Carlisle. Once inside the room, I heard the distinct sound of a door being kicked shut before I was set down. I knew this room from my visions of Jasper and Edward bonding as brothers and friends. It was Jasper's room. It, unlike Esme and Carlisle's room, did not have a bed. No, of course not. Our kind needn't sleep; the beds were simply for comfort and acts of love. Only Carlisle and Esme, and Emmett and Rosalie, had use for beds. This knowledge saddened me for a moment. I had kept myself away from Jasper, depriving him of love.

Instead of a bed, the room held an elegant crimson colored slender couch with a high back. I saw Jasper already planning on laying me down on the couch, removing my clothing, and doing all sorts of lovely things to me. I was so caught up in what I saw in my minds eye, I didn't notice Jasper come up behind me until he had ducked down and latched his lips onto my neck. I moaned, leaning back into his touch, telling him I wanted—_needed_—more. I spun around to face him, forcing him to stand up straight. I saw no problem in making my vision come true. I decided against stripping in front of him, I wanted him to remove my clothes. I wanted him to unwrap me like the gift he seemed to see me as.

I moved to back up to the couch, only to be stopped by his hands on my waist. Jasper lowered himself to his knees, his head level with my shoulder. He couldn't contain himself long enough to take me to the couch. With transfixed eyes he gazed at my shirt, his hands moving up from my waist to the front of my shirt before finding a home at the sides of my breasts. He cupped the small mounds through the fabric, running his thumbs over my responsive nipples. The first touch was soft. He was gauging my reaction, seeing if I wanted this. I moaned, urging him to continue. His thumbs moved over the tips of my breasts, increasing the speed and pressure ever so slightly.

"Jasper," I whined. As much as his touch was lovely, it wasn't enough. The burning itch was being stoked, growing. My plea was all it took; his hands left my breasts to find the buttons of my shirt. He swiftly undid the buttons. Once the garment was undone, he pushed the flaps to my shoulders to get an unobstructed view of my form. Once again, he was transfixed, mesmerized. I watched his eyes darken even more with lust. I placed my arms on his shoulders, stroking his hair. I needed him to do something before I lost all my patience and flung myself on him. Jasper must've sensed my frustration. He lowered himself even more, sitting on his heels, as his hands gripped my waist and drew me closer. And then, then, heaven itself opened up and swallowed me whole: Jasper's mouth descended on my right breast.

My head flew back, small gasps leaving my lips, as Jasper's tongue slowly—sensually—swirled and flicked over the peak of my breast. His eyes were contently closed, his short eyelashes tickling the top of my breast. I moaned as he suckled, licked, and much to my surprised enjoyment, nibbled. The room was filled with the sounds of his ministrations and my tiny moans. After lavishing a great deal of attention on my breast, he moved to my left breast and began his little routine anew. I cradled his head to my chest, begging that he never release me, never grow tire of the sweet torture he had deemed me worthy enough to receive.

He held me closer, pulling more of me into his mouth. My legs and hips were now pressed against his torso. My body seemed to relish in the feel of being once again against his form as my hips came to life and I rubbed myself against him. It didn't feel the same as my earlier gyrating against his lap, but it was satisfactory. My hips needed to feel him; they would take any part of him they could get.

Somehow in the midst of his ministrations, we grew even further entertained. With his hands holding me up, my legs fastened themselves around his waist and my head found a home on his shoulder. Each swipe of his tongue produced a wanton moan against his shoulder. Never before, even in my solitary explorations, had I felt so free and enraptured. Never in my past had such attention been paid to my body. James's pleasure seeking had been just that. He sought his relief thrusting between my legs and was done. Jasper was different. The pleasured sounds coming from my mouth seemed to give him joy, seek ways to continue my vocalizations, my delight.

When his lips left my breast, I felt a coldness sweep through me. The coldness of unhappiness. I had had this coldness through my existence but it was more pronounced, more intense, after coming down the warmth of the happiness Jasper had induced.

"Please, don't stop," I begged him; my voice was thin, meek, vulnerable. Jasper tightened his hold on me.

"Never," I heard him whisper in my ear before placing a gentle kiss on the lobe that reverberated down to my interlocked ankles behind his back. Without another word, he lifted me up just enough to move from the center of the room to the couch. My back touched the soft velvet material. He stayed standing over me at the foot of the couch as his hands disconnected my ankles and laid my feet down on the floor. His earlier promise of never was the only think that kept me from sitting up, grabbing the front of his shirt, and pulling him down on top of me. I trusted him. I trusted him not to leave me wanting, not to hurt me, not to deceive me. My patience was rewarded as he once again was on his knees, his lips connecting with the flesh of my stomach. He bathed my abdomen with feather light kisses and gentle nuzzles with his nose. The gentle tenderness of his touch drove me off the precipice I had been teetering since the moments our lips touched downstairs in the sitting room.

My jaw clenched, my eyes squeezed shut and my back arched completely off the couch. I needed something corporeal, something to tether me from floating away as I felt I surely would. My fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to me as a small explosion tore through my senses. As spontaneously as it began, it receded and I slumped back down on the couch. Jasper's large hands caressed my sides, coaxing me out of the sensory coma I had fallen into. My eyes opened half way as I stared down at him. He watched me with loving eyes and pulled one of my hands from his hair, bringing it to his lips and placing a lingering kiss on my open palm before laying it on my stomach.

"You're not finished," he said, his voice a mixture of fascination, passion, determination, and love. A giggle bubbled out of my lips. He would know, wouldn't he? He was right. The combustion brought on by his amorous kisses and touches was enough to take the edge off of my need, control the itch, but it wasn't enough to douse the flames completely.

"Then finish me," I practically challenged with a voice that was not my own. Or, at least not the voice I had grown used to hearing from myself. I was a new woman, a lustful creature with a low voice laced with want. I was the woman Jasper had created, the woman Jasper had already grown to love and intended to show his love to. The visions flooding into my mind's eye were almost enough to cause another explosion to ripple through me. They mirrored the fantasies I had stored in my mind, so much so that I almost wondered if I had slipped into one of them. He intended to slide the skirt down my legs and slowly—almost too slowly for my liking—separate my thighs, opening me up to his intense gaze.

The rest of the vision was interrupted as I felt Jasper acting out on his plans. One hand found itself at the small of my back and gently lifted my waist as the other drew my skirt down past my hips. He set me back down on the couch before both hands pushed the garment down the rest of the way, his thumbs caressing the tops of my thighs as the skin was exposed to him. Once the skirt was down my legs, he tossed it aside so as to not be encumbered by it. He placed his hands on my knees and looked up with me with hesitant eyes. Did he really need my permission? Did he not see, sense, how much I wanted him? His gentleman sentimentality must've clouded his common sense! I gave him a quick nod—yes, continue you damn fool! Love me, touch me, kiss me, do whatever you want to do with me!

With my consent, he slowly eased my legs apart. The space of the couch didn't allow my right leg to go as far as he liked. Not to be deterred, he simply hefted the limb over his shoulder as he moved my left leg to where he saw fit.

A small part of me questioned this. Was this any different that James's actions? James moved and adjusted my body to fit his own needs whenever he took me. But a larger part of me knew this was different. James never thought of my own responses, as long as he got what he wanted he was fine with my prone listless form. Jasper cared a great deal over my responses, the pleasured noises leaking out of my mouth. I knew this was all about me, what I wanted. If I chose that this was not what I wanted, he would release me.

"Alice?" I heard him speak. His head was resting on my leg and he watched me with careful eyes. He sensed my moment of uncertainty and I could see he was already wondering if he should stop. I reached down, stroking the side of his face with my fingertips. That was all that it took to convince me, ease my mind completely. I was not Mary, James's toy. No, I was Alice. I was Alice, Jasper's love.

"Yes," was all I replied with. It was all the answer he needed. He tilted his head and kissed my fingertips. I couldn't help giggle. He'd lay kisses on every inch of my body if he could. He probably would too, but not now. Now, he was committed to his current task. I felt his eyes gazing at my core. I anxiously waited for him to do something as his fingers lightly massaged my open thighs. He drew his face closer to me and all I could see from my position was his hair, forehead and eyebrows. He placed a kiss on my nether lips, a slow heated kiss that left me begging for more. One of his hands left my thighs before I felt the thumb and forefinger drawing the lips apart, opening me up to him even more. I bit my lip waiting for him to continue.

The feel of his soft pliant tongue was incredible. Incredible seemed to not do such a feeling justice. The appendage slowly lined the inside of my lips, tasting me. He explored my lower region with his mouth, tortuously avoiding the spots that most needed his attention. Whatever remedy my earlier release had caused faded with his teasing. With each swipe of his tongue, I needed more. I felt like I was feeding, except no matter how many mouthfuls of blood I swallowed, my hunger only grew.

"Jasper," I nearly sobbed. I couldn't take his loving teasing much longer. He heard my plea and seemed to break out of the reverie his exploration had induced. The thumb that had been holding my lips apart slipped down, touching the jutting bundle of nerves. "Oh!" I gasped. The thumb grazed much like it had my nipple earlier. I bucked against his face as he drew circles on the bundle of nerves while his tongue finally inched closer to the other spot that begged for his care. My hips moved in small circles against the couch, unconsciously mimicking the rhythm his thumb was steadily maintaining. His tongue slowly slid into me, drawing a small joyous squeal from my mouth. "Yes," I gasped. "Oh…Jasp-uh!" My mouth flapped about, sputtering just about anything. My passions mounting, Jasper increased his movements. His thumb circled as his tongue moved and swirled inside me. I then had the distinct recollection that his thumb had stopped its ministrations, but I was too fixated by his tongue to care too much. His hands moved onto my hips, sliding beneath my form and gripping the small globes of my buttocks and drawing me closer to his mouth, reaching new depths inside me.

I was shaking against him, my body twitched on its own as I grew closer to my release. His mouth wanted more of me. My inner walls clenched and squeezed his tongue much like they had done against my own probing fingers whenever I grew close to bringing on my own release. It was force of habit that spurred my movements as one of my hands inched down between my legs, finding the little button standing at attention. I rubbed the abandoned nub. I heard Jasper growl lowly, his mouth still attached to me. He seemed displeased that I had not patiently let him give me pleasure in his own manner, but frankly all I could coherently think about that moment was the vibrations his vocalization had caused. I shrieked, my hips thrusting violently against him.

"Jasper….again….." I babbled. I'd certainly never experienced that sensation with my wandering hands. My body desired all the new sensations the sensuous devil—_angel_—nestled between my thighs could give. My reaction must've given him an idea. As his tongue still resided within me, in my mind I saw the end result: me shrieking and moaning with his lips wrapped around the little nub.

My mouth fell open in surprise. That was certainly new. I could barely comprehend how that could feel. His suckling mouth had created quite the reaction on my breasts; I quivered at the prospect of what that would be like on the sensitive nub. I moved my rubbing hand away, eager to find out. Instantly his mouth had replaced my fingers, closing around the nub. He sucked once, twice, and then moaned, the vibrations hitting me with a force ten times stronger than before. I slammed my head back against the couch as my back arched. I thanked and praised all the wonderful fates that had led me to this man and the delicious things he was doing to me.

Seemingly concerned I would take matters into my own hands again if a part of me was left unattended, one of his hands traveled down from my undulating backside and took up the station his mouth had abandoned. Two of his long fingers slid into me as he continued to suck and create vibrations against the nub. My toes curled against my feet and low guttural moans flowed out of me. I could see the edge of the cliff, it was within my reach. My head thrashed side to side as Jasper's fingers and mouth coaxed me closer and closer to the rim. I was there.

"Jasper!" I screamed. "Guh…...Yes……Oh!" My body bucked and shuddered against him, my thighs snapped shut, trapping him against me as wave after wave of pleasure hit me. I thrusted against him, riding this feeling for as long as I could. He placed soft kisses on my inner thighs as I slowly came down from my high. Once it had passed, I laid still on the couch, my eyes closed and a content smile on my face.

I felt the gentle nudging of Jasper freeing himself from the confines of my thighs. Then, the most wonderful weight laid itself upon me. The buttons of his shirt lightly scrapped my skin as he lay on top of me, brushing his lips against my neck. I could smell myself on his lips and the realization made me tremble with the stirrings of renewed passion. I had marked him with my scent, I owned him. And he, the wearer of the scent, the one to bring it out of me, owned me. I sighed happily and wrapped my arms around his waist. I was eager to experience more with this wondrous man, this man who had shaped up to be all that I had—for lack of a better word—dreamed he'd be and more. I wanted to touch him, give him the earth shattering pleasures he had given me, but not yet. No, now, now I just needed to hold him, know that I was really lying beneath him. There were still many hours until morning, until he would need to feed. There'd be plenty of time to explore him.

A voice in the back of my mind gently reminded me that all the time in the world was too much, too long, but I was too busy being held by my lover to remember why that was exactly.


	7. Chapter 7

Jasper and I lay on the couch for a good while, locked in our embrace. I kept my arms secure around his waist as his hands slid under the flaps of my open shirt. He idly ran his hands up and down my bare arms under the sleeves of my shirt as his lips lightly kissed my neck. I was content. No, happy. No, I was blissful. I felt more than heard, a low chuckle rise from his chest. It moved against my own chest. It felt so intimate, so glorious, I couldn't help smile like a little pet who had just received an hour long belly rub.

"What are you finding so funny?" I asked. I felt his lips stretch into a smile against my neck.

"Everything," he replied. I felt him move over me, move to roll off of my body. I gave a small whimper of protest and held him to me, making it abundantly clear I was not yet ready for our bodies to part. He obliged and simply gripped my upper arms and artfully rolled us on the couch so our positions were reversed and I was now lying on top of him. Though I had enjoyed feeling his weight on me, I didn't mind this change and simply snuggled into his chest. He pulled the shirt off of me completely and tossed it aside to join my skirt before wrapping his arms around me, his hands slowly traveling up and down my spine. "We just met and…I'm not certain I've made a very good first impression," he said. I giggled like a giddy child and lifted my head off his chest to look at him.

"Jasper, I think you've made a _very _good first impression," I lightly argued. He gave me a lazy smile.

"It wasn't very gentlemanly of me," he said. Another rush of giddiness ran through me. This angel, this golden haired Adonis, saw me worthy of gentlemanly advances. I slowly crawled up his body so our lips could meet. I lightly kissed the tip of his chin.

"I would have to disagree with that," I replied before kissing the corner of his mouth.

"I don't know if a gentleman is supposed to advance on a lady like that," he chuckled. I grinned down at him.

"I believe it was _I_ who advanced on _you_," I pointed out. I had been the one to grab him and force his lips on mine. I slowly sat up on his stomach, my legs straddling his waist. Jasper stared up at me, taking in the sight of me in all my naked glory perched on top of him. "In fact," I continued, running my hands down his chest. "I think I'd like to continue advancing." Not one to be patient like he had been with my own shirt, I simply grabbed the collar of his shirt and tore it apart. Buttons flew and scattered to the floor as I ripped it open. I wondered if I should apologize for destroying his clothing, but there were more pressing matters to address, such as my sudden desire to kiss every single contour of his chest and stomach.

His firm body was littered with more of his faint crescent shaped scars. They called to me, begging for attention. I ran my hands down his body, my short nails scratching the lean muscles before me. I watched Jasper's eyes drift shut, his tongue sliding out and running over his bottom lip. A shiver ran through me at the memory of where that nimble little tongue had been not too long ago. I stroked his chest with an upward motion with the backs of my hands before drawing my palms down again.

"Alice," he sighed. I pressed my hands against his chest and leaned downward, latching my lips to his collarbone for a moment before trailing kisses down to his chest. He had deftly explored me earlier, and now it was my turn. I intended to enjoy my time with him beneath me, my tongue tracing the scars on his chest. He trembled with anticipation beneath me. I was pleased to see I affected him so. My nose trailed against his pectorals as I sought out another scar to kiss and lick. I took in his scent, the smell that was just his, it was heady and I needed more of it. I slowly shimmied down his body as my lips traveled down from his chest to his stomach. I lightly nipped at the taunt flesh, eliciting a small hiss from my angel. I finally reached his navel. For some reason, this little indentation in his flesh fascinated me. My tongue slid into the crevice and lightly tickled the small nub hidden inside. Jasper's jerked underneath me, a moan slipping out of him. I couldn't help smile at this. I had found a little treasure, a spot that made him the most responsive.

"It seems your stomach is a little sensitive," I teased. Jasper didn't respond. I ran my tongue along the inside of his naval, bringing out all sort of wonderful noises from his lips. After I placed an open mouthed kiss on the spot, his hips thrust up against me. His clothed erection brushed up against my naked breasts, reminding me that it was there. I placed more kisses in and around his navel as my hands traveled to the waist of his trousers. I slipped my hands inside, trapping them between his skin and the waistband, and let my fingers skim his flesh.

"Uh…" Jasper delightfully sighed as his eyes drifted shut. "What are you doing to me, my little angel?" He absently murmured, lost in the sensations I was causing. I moaned against his skin, I couldn't help it. Here he was, my Adonis, my perfection, calling me an angel. No, not just an angel, _his _angel.

"Cherishing you," I whispered before placing a wet kiss against his stomach, sucking his skin into my mouth before releasing it. My hands found the front of his trousers and skillfully undid them. Once the flaps were separated and waiting for me to tug them down, I was filled with a sudden feeling of trepidation.

"Alice?" Jasper asked. He had felt that, even in the lustful haze I had put him in; he felt it and pulled himself out of his euphoria. In one fluid motion, Jasper sat up and took hold of my hands before drawing me back up onto his lap, pressing our chest together as he held me. "What is it, Alice?" He worriedly asked. I shook my head. I knew what had filled me with such anxiety, but it was nothing that I cared to mar our beautiful time with.

"Nothing," I replied. He looked at me closely and touched my face with his fingertips, drawing them against the edge of my jaw. All of this was perfect, more than I deserved. And it broke my still heart. All the things from my existence came rushing back to me. The sad truth was Jasper was the only man to give such happiness to me, such joy. But he was not the only man in my life. He was not the only man I had seen in such a manner. As it was, I tended not to look at James. But it was unavoidable to notice the body crushing itself on top of me, thrusting, unceasing, uncaring. And although I knew Jasper was different, although he had already shown me such, my mind was filled with fear. Never before have I hated James more than this moment.

I looked at Jasper, taking in his worried eyes, his beautiful golden eyes filled with warmth. I needed to focus on his eyes, focus on the contrasts between him and my captor. I needed to remember here was my heaven. My hell was elsewhere, far away.

"Tell me I'm yours," I desperately whispered. Jasper's eyes searched me for a moment. Each second of that moment felt like a crushing blow. "Please," I begged. "Tell me I belong only to you," I said. If I belonged to Jasper, even for just this brief time, then I did not belong to James. Jasper trailed his fingers from my jaw down to my neck.

"Alice," he spoke. I waited. Did he want me to be his? Why was he hesitating? "I love you," he finally said. I whimpered, hearing him say such a thing hit me hard, filled my insides with something strong, pungent. It robbed me of my power to speak. He drew closer to me and nestled his head underneath my chin. "I belong to you," he continued. "From the moment you stopped me in the woods, the moment I saw you, I became yours." My chest fluttered as dry sobs began to stockpile inside me. My angel had laid himself down at my feet. It was more than I could take.

"I want to be yours," I weakly spoke; I think it was a protest but I couldn't understand why I was protesting. Jasper tilted his head, his lips brushing against my neck.

"Be mine, then," he tenderly encouraged. "I'll be yours and you'll be mine." My head collapsed forward onto his shoulder and I nodded furiously against him.

"Yes," I gasped. "Forever," I said.

"Forever," he repeated. What I said next, I used as our promise, a promise to him and a promise to myself.

"No matter what," I stated. I needed to know that if I left, if we were parted, we still belonged to one another. James could never claim me. He might perceive ownership, but he would never own me for I will belong to the angel with the wavy blonde hair.

"No matter what," he spoke. I sighed against him, nodding. He gently nudged me from him, coaxing my face up from his shoulder so our eyes met. "Are you happy, my Alice?" He asked. I nodded, grin spreading across my lips. I wasn't sure if it was organic, from only me, or if Jasper hadn't had a hand in my current feelings of joy, but I didn't care. Either way, it was what I needed. Either way, Jasper had soothed me. Whether with his words and his promise or with his power, it didn't matter. I was happy and it was because of Jasper. Jasper gave me a soft smile, a smile so small that to the naked eye would seem like nothing, but I could see it. In the dimness of the room, in our proximity, it was a warm tiny stretch of his lips, and it was for me. "Good," he spoke. His eyes danced with warmth and the still present lust I had created. I'd seen lust before, lust in James's red eyes. The fact that Jasper didn't throw me down and force himself inside me to sate that lust, like James would have, all the more told me were I was and who I was with. Yes, he was mine and I was his. And I now, more so than ever before, needed to make that real. I needed to make that concrete.

"Jasper," I softly spoke, shy. Jasper's smile widened, picking up on my innocent shyness, and finding it endearing. What I said next was sans innocence. "I want you to make love to me," I plainly said. Jasper's eyebrows rose. I'd seen enough of his life through my visions to know that, like me, though he had experienced touches and carnal releases they had all been void of love. We were pure—or perhaps even more tainted—in that regard. I wanted our purity and stains to collide in something beautiful. "Will you make love to me?" I asked. Jasper nodded.

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered. Our lips met in a tender kiss. Not willing to lose the touch of my mouth on his, Jasper shifted beneath me, his legs rapidly kicking to toss away his trousers. After a while, I heard them flutter to the floor before feeling him tear his shirt off his arms. I pulled back to look at him, nervously biting my lip. Here we were, both equally naked—literally and figuratively—waiting for the next step.

"I want to stay like this," I asserted. Though feeling Jasper's weight crushing down on me again would be nothing short of delicious, I needed this. Even just for the simple fact that I needed to be in the active position, something I never had experienced before. As Jasper nodded his acquiescence to anything I wanted, a vision momentarily clouded my eyes: his hands clutching at my back while I bounced on top of him as he growled his pleasure against the skin of my tiny shoulder. My head was thrown back, shrieks of ecstasy leaking out of my open mouth.

"Alice," Jasper spoke, tearing me from what I saw. My eyes blinked, returning their gaze to him. "Did you see something?" He whispered, knowing of my visions and assuming my distant look was because of that. I nodded. "What did you see?" He curiously asked. My lips stretched back into a grin.

"Bliss," I replied. Jasper caught my meaning. He closed the small space between our chests and pressed his lips against my neck.

"Could I see it too?" He gently requested.

"You can feel it," I replied. "Soon." I felt more than heard Jasper chuckle against me.

"Not too soon, I hope," he murmured, his lips brushing against the spot on my neck as he nuzzled my skin.

"No, not too soon," I said. Our bliss would build up steadily, delectably mounting higher and higher until there was no ways to go and we burst into delirious euphoria. "But soon enough," I added as I carefully shifted against him, raising my hips. I was purposeful and timid at the same time as I moved until my opening found the tip of his spear. No, not a spear. James's was a spear, inflicting nothing good whenever it came in contact with me. No, Jasper's was…something else. Something sweet and good, like the lollipops I'd often see human children happily sliding their pink tongues against down city streets, their hands clutched in the embraces of the parent that had chosen to indulge them. As incredibly silly and absurd as it seemed, Jasper's member—the tip now just barely touching my outer lips as Jasper waited for me to continue—was like a lollipop in a shop window, and I was the pudgy little child with my hands pressed against the glass, my mouth watering at the thought of it.

I felt Jasper's hands tenderly take hold of my waist, not oppressively, not to force me down onto him. It was almost to show me how much in spite of that he was. His touch was there to tell me how he _did not _intend to push me down just to sate is need. I slowly moved my hips back, letting his tip brush the length of my lip. My curious exploration sent a shiver of pleasure through me and a soft sigh passed through his lips. I moved my hips forward, drawing my nether lip over his tip again until it nearly reached my backside before shifting back to let it run forward again until it was near the top of my slit, right outside my tender bud that had become affected by the touch of him on me. A low soft moan rumbled out of my lover.

"Alice," he breathed. I steadied my hands on his shoulders and curled my legs until my knees were bent on either side of him, pressing into the sides of his firm buttocks. I moved again, sideways, letting his tip part my lips and touch the protruding nub. The jolt that went through me made me gasp, sucking in air and smelling my own arousal in the air. My hips moved on their own accord, wanting to recreate that jolt as they slowly circled over him, letting the tip manipulate the pliable little stump just as his thumb had before.

"Oh," I whispered, my eyes fluttering shut as I treaded through the sea of passion. I felt Jasper's hands slip from my waist until they rested on my posterior globes, his fingers lightly pressing into my skin in the most delectable way. He held me up, encouraging me to continue doing whatever it was that pleasured me so. Pleasure that I could only imagine was rolling off of me in waves and hitting him directly. "Jasper," I spoke, my hips continuing to undulate over him. "…My….wonderful Jasper," I gasped, letting my head fall back. Jasper's fingers gently massaged my skin, increasing my pleasure as he pressed his lips against my shoulder.

"You're wonderful," he replied. He lightly kissed my collarbone as his fingers tenderly kneaded my flesh. I felt his rigid appendage grow with want beneath me. Even with this want, he restrained himself and allowed my torture on him to continue, only increasing my love for this man. I wondered how he was able to restrain himself so. Was it an effect from his learning to restrain from human blood? Was this from him being taught to do his best to rein in his impulses? Or was it a more inbred aspect of him? When it came down to it though, I didn't care about the how or why of his restraint, just the fact that he cared enough not to force or push in order to reach his own pleasure.

"I…" I whispered my arousal mounting. "Jasper, I want you inside of me," I stated. I felt Jasper's lips pucker against my shoulder, kissing my skin.

"Whenever you are ready, Alice," he replied. I smiled, my hands running though his hair affectionately. Yes, I had already seen he would wait until I was ready, wait until I wanted him to slip into me. And I was ready, I wanted him NOW. The little nub seemed to protest as I shifted against him, lining my entrance with his tip. Don't worry little friend, all will be well.

Once I felt the tip of his erection pressing against my opening, I slowly lowered myself down. I moaned as I felt him fill me. If the feel of his fingers inside of me had felt good, this was downright ecstasy. It was as if our bodies had been tailor made to fit together and our existences, before this moment, had been spent blindly searching for our corresponding piece. He was thick, just enough so to create a snug fit inside of me. The length was just enough to reach all the places that relished their attention, places I hadn't even known existed until that very moment.

"Alice," my lover moaned against me. I stayed in place for a moment, relishing in just holding him in place inside me. Jasper seemed to be thinking on the same page, for he sat still, indulging in the embrace that had slid around him. After a few moments, my body seemed eager to continue as, as if with a mind of their own, my legs lifted me up so my weight pressed down on my knees. I slowly slid up his engorged appendage, my walls clinging to every inch of him, before plopping back down, a low hiss leaving Jasper's lips as a moan slipped out of mine. I moved again, and again, developing a rhythm on his lap. Jasper's hips jerked upwards each time I came down, meeting me mid-thrust and finding new depths inside of me.

"Oh, god, Jasper!" I gasped, his member hitting a spot inside of me that sent millions upon of millions of tiny jolts of pleasure coursing through me. I felt one of Jaspers hands tangle in the hairs at the back of my head as he brought my head down for our lips to meet. How our mouths managed to connect and linger against one another with the vigorous movements I was doing against him, I'll never know. Somehow, we connected and remained fused together, our tongues twining together in a sensual dance rivaled only by our colliding hips. Jasper's hand remained buried in my hair as his other arm wrapped around my back, pressing our bodies together as he thrust up into me. My mouth tore away from his as my head fell back, my senses careening out of control. Jasper, apparently still needing to do something with his mouth, didn't miss a beat as his head quickly ducked down and took one of my heaving breasts into his mouth. His hand slipped down from my hair and supported my upper back as he greedily feasted on my flesh, his tongue swirling and flicking against my nipple.

"Alice, my sweet Alice," I felt, more than heard, him mumble against my skin. If I was alive, and my heart could beat, I had no doubt that it would be thumping out the most beautiful of melodies at the sound of his muffled speech, muffled because he couldn't get enough of me and the taste of my skin. My eyes slipped closed as I sank into all the feelings spinning around me, all the sensations my body and mind were being treated to. Jasper's lips, tongue and teeth teasing my flesh as his rigid appendage slipped in and out of me.

"Ugh.." I shakily moaned as I continued to buck against him, my frenzied movements increasing in speed as once again I found myself standing on that edge.

"Alice!" Jasper groaned, his grip tightening on my back as his pleasure continued to mount as well. His mouth slipped off of my breast and found a new home against my shoulder. He pressed a deep kiss against my skin as he panted and growled out his loosening grip on control. My hands found their way into his wave locks. I gripped his blonde hair like my own personal soft textured reigns as Jasper's thrusts inside of me grew wilder. A small voice in my head whispered a warning, telling me this was but so different than the wild plunges of James's spear. I banished the voice as quickly as it appeared. James shoving his body into mine left me numb, sick, and worthless. There was something different about Jasper's fierce bucking; it stoked the already raging fire inside my belly where James's movements felt like they killed me from the inside out.

Jasper's wildness did not frighten me, it excited me even more. I knew this passionate beast could not and would not hurt me. It fed on my pleasure, the ecstasy that enveloped us both. I knew if he even for a moment sensed my pleasure had turned to fear, he would force himself to stop. I knew this wild man. I knew and trusted him more after just a few hours than I did the monster who had kept me prisoner for decades.

"Alice…" Jasper hissed against my shoulder. I tightened my grip on his hair.

"Wait," I begged, panting and gasping. "Wait for me," I whispered. I felt Jasper's shaky breathing against my skin as he gave the smallest of nods. My hips undulated against him, creating friction against the sensitive nub. The tiny button seemed to be happy to be included in our activities again, as my loins were rewarded with quick spreading warmth and the pit of my stomach tightened. "Almost," I gasped. "Oh, Jasper!" I shrieked. My inner walls tightly gripped the welcomed invader as our hips slapped against each other fiercely. "Now, Jasper, now!" I choked out. His arms tightened around me as our hips continued to collide. Small pleasured shrieks leaked out of my lips as I leaped off the cliff and dove into the chasm of euphoria. Jasper growled loudly against my shoulder as he too sank into his release. In the midst of our shrieks and growls, I faintly heard a cracking noise but paid it no mind. I was too busy swimming in the sea of passion and bliss Jasper and I were currently occupying.

We rode through the rolling waves of our union until our movements finally stilled. I collapsed on top of him as Jasper's body reclined on the couch. The second our bodies slumped down on the couch, there was another cracking sound. It was our only warning before the legs of the couch gave out and the couch collapsed on the floor. Jasper and I were both silent as we looked at the wreckage below us and the floor that was now much closer than barely a second ago. After a moment, the silence in the room was pierced by our laughter.

"I have a feeling Emmett is never going to let me live this down," Jasper stated between peals of laughter, eyeing one of the wooden legs of the couch that had been reduced to a pile of large splinters.


End file.
